Whew! Carl is back with his parents!

Over the years, I have come to know that I'm a bit of an anxious person.  Weather wimp is just the beginning.  Social anxiety, i.e. second guessing everything I've ever said to anybody, worrying about how it might have affected them... you bet!

Now apply that to the current situation, where your son's beloved canine has been injured on your watch.  Never mind that you weren't doing anything wrong... you didn't have the dog wrapped up in bubble wrap and protected from potential harm... you think:  I shouldn't have taken him to that particular dog park, I should have been more alert, etc.  Then it comes to caring for the wound, deciding when and with what information to notify the kids on their honeymoon...

Thankfully, I'm a believer in getting professional help.  I'm thankful for excellent veterinarians in town.  

So, to continue the tales of Carl and his stay with Grandma...

Sunday, I insisted he stay in the cone.  He learned to get around the house (even around corners) with the cone on.  But he still tried to scratch, even through the cone.  Mid-afternoon, another stitch popped, and blood spurted on the inside of the cone.  I had already called the Veterinary ER and asked about stitches popping, describing the medication protocol he was on.  She seemed unconcerned, as long as the meds were being taken as directed.  But she also said if I was concerned, just bring him in, you don't need an appointment.  

Over we headed. Carl was a very good boy.  We had to sit in the waiting room at the ER vet for about an hour.  He did not bark or growl at the other dogs there, or even at a sedated cat that was discharged during that time.  Since the ER Vet is about the only game in town on a Sunday, they are always busy.  When it was finally our turn, the vet looked him over, and declared that it looked about what she would expect at this point in the healing.  They could keep him, clean him up, or I could take him home, keep medicating, washcloth if he would let me, etc.  She reassured me that I was doing all the right things, best I could.

With renewed confidence, I got Carl to allow the washcloth to wipe off any blood that escaped. The regular vet had indicated that there could still be some discharge or blood on the exterior, but the drainage was set to go internally, into his mouth where he would swallow.  Gross, huh?

Sunday night Carl came up to bed, getting himself all the way upstairs, cone and all.  I coaxed him even to jump up on the big bed, and he slept well overnight, cone and all.  

Something I learned from all this... dogs really need their sense of smell up close to determine a spot that's "safe" to pee or poop.  Carl "held it" all the way from Friday evening until Monday morning.  Well, the pee only from Saturday morning to Monday morning, but still, that's an incredible hold.  I suspected it might help if I took the cone off to take him out in the yard. I got a good long pee, and a nice sized poop from him at that point!  With the cone back on, he did not go again during any of our trips outdoors.

The kids left Colorado this morning, reached their house around 3, unloaded the truck, and came over for the canine hand-off.  They were packed up and gone by 4, at which point I told the cats that the dog was gone.  I brought their dishes inside.  The Prisoner followed, soon after.  Just call it the rotating pet center!

I was left with wonderful thank you gifts, including my Kryptonite in dark chocolate form.  Also some organic coffee and a new mug from Mesa Verde.

These are like Milky Way Midnight (dark chocolate with caramel) but with sea salt sprinkled atop the dark chocolate, and mega-high quality!

Whew!  I loved having Carl, but I'm ready for a break.  Tomorrow it's back to the gym and the trainer!

Life is good.  Spark on!