I took Tuesday off this week to bring Harlow to the vet to have a lump on her paw removed. It's stopped growing since she was a puppy, and I didn't do anything about it because she didn't acknowledge it. So, I know it wasn't hurting her. But last week I noticed it got irritated somehow (how that could possibly happen on my whirling dervish I have no idea!), started bleeding, and she started licking. So, I made the appointment.
When I picked her up in the afternoon following her procedure, she was a bit dopey. Thinking little of this fact, I opened the car door to let her in she jumped about one inch off the ground and squashed into the side of the car seat with her body and cone encompassed head. I imagined that in her head she had much more height that in reality. Of course I realised then that she'd need help getting into the car, because what felt like a hearty jump to her clearly wasn't in her present condition.
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| paw in the open |
That evening she was snuggly and chill with an open row of stitches and I took a bit of time cutting about an inch off the ecollar after Dad pointed out that it was too big for her, only to replace it on Harlow and realize she could now reach the wound and took full advantage of this opportunity to start licking at it.
So I painstakingly re taped on the inch I'd just cut off. Smooth.
In the morning I put her in her crate with the ecollar on. She was not a fan of this and I can't say I blame her. She flailed and made a scene while i quickly got my things together to leave for work. This generally take sixty second but turned into much longer when I realized my keys were not where they should be. They did not present themselves to me in a timely fashion, so I let Harlow out of the crate while I searched FOR ANOTHER 25 MINUTES before finding my damn keys.
I asked Dad to come check on her in the morning while I was at work. I arrived at the office after a physical therapy session just in time for a call from dad letting me know she'd thrashed around enough in the crate to bust open her stitches. I called the vet and planned on bringing her back ASAP.
I then walked down one east, crossed Commonwealth Ave, then west one block (because the T line fence prevents a simple crossing of the street in front of my office) to my mechanic who fortunately just finished working on my car (how could the tubing to my washer fluid sprayers simply disappear?). I would hop in and head home to puppy. Except I didn't have my wallet on me, so I trekked west one block, crossed Comm Ave and trekked east one block.
Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
When I got to Harlow she was fit to be tied at the site of me outside her crate. I took her back to the vet where they would sedate her again. I took the rest of the day off from work. That's how much of a project it turned into. But at the end of it all, she had a very pretty pink bandage and multiple appointments (and bills) to return to have the paw redressed over the next week and a half.
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| Heading back to the vet after the stitches opened up |
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| she didn't know how to sit with the bandage on for a while |
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| wasn't really slowed down much |
Thursday we went back to have the bandage changed and when the vet came out of the back with Harlow she said breathlessly, "It's the worst bandage job I've ever done. We almost had to sedate her again!"
Schitzo on crack.
I worried that she would hurt herself again if left in the crate with the ecollar on, and I worried that she'd pull the bandage off without the ecollar. Mom and Dad volunteered to take her so the next morning I brought her to their place, only to find after about 3 and a half minutes that the wild child would be too much for them to deal with. It was like she was a schitzo on crack.
Fortunately, my dog walker is awesome and they took her. And also found her to be no trouble which was very lucky. They had her Thursday and Friday and Harlow was on her best behavior, except for the part about pooping in their house right after being let outside, "I think the cat scared her" Amanda, my dog walker said. I have no idea, but it's been a long while since she's done that and it was I think over the holidays at Mom and Dad's house.
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| someone's wearing the cone! This is the dog walker's son |
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| playing at the dog walkers |
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| rather cushy at the dog walkers! |
Saturday when we went back to the vet for the next bandage change, I sat on the floor next to Harlow while they rebandaged it and she was as well behaved as can be, even as she panted in a panic with her tongue hanging out like a rolled out red carpet. We played the fun game of "Gotchyer toungue!" Well, okay, maybe I'm the only one who thinks it's fun.
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