Day 2 of recovery

 

The Prisoner, helping with Sunday morning "poo patrol".  Or at least he might think he's helping.  More likely, he's trying to trip the human so he can take over the world, as we all know the felines plan to do.

Sunday morning when Ember got up, she did her business in the back yard, turned her nose up (mostly) at breakfast, and wanted her normal walk.  She did gobble down her third half-pill of pain / inflammation control medication, slathered in peanut butter.

Sunrise was 6:27 a.m.  We were out the door walking at 6:34, per RunKeeper.  It was cool and not many folks out and about.  No other dogs encountered, thank goodness, as we're still in our "onesie" suit and therefore with collar and leash (no harness).  Now that I've been educated on where the incision site is, I might consider putting a harness on over the top of the suit for some later days in recovery, as she's likely to get stronger.  Thankfully, Ember is not much of a puller, absent a strong incentive.

At one point on our walk, she picked up this gem of litter, and Mom had to convince her to drop it, give it to me, distract her from it so I could insert it in my back pocket and bring it home to discard.  Note it still has a little liquid at the bottom of the bottle!  Alcohol is not good for a dog to ingest.

I wish people took the "don't be a litterbug" campaign seriously!

But I digress... we got home, I cooked my breakfast, Ember had a couple of chew sticks, licked the milk measuring cup while I fixed my oatmeal, and I gave her a couple of blueberries.  All pretty normal after-walk activity.

About quarter of 8, she was starting to fall asleep on the couch, so I put her into her den for puppy nap #1.  

Meanwhile, across town, my son and his wife were hosting their first "respite care" foster child.  This is a little boy, age 6, who hasn't yet started kindergarten.  The photos that my DIL was able to share with the family are precious, but of course, foster care rules say they cannot publish the images on social media, and I shall respect that rule, too.  I have to admit at first I thought they might be going a bit over the top: 

• playing with Carl and the birds, of course (would be normal)
• took the kiddo grocery shopping, where he got to pick out his favorite foods (he wanted to make s'mores
• to the mall where they indulged in video and pinball games
• to a park and the pool on Sunday  

That's a lot of going and doing for a six-year-old!  It could set up some unrealistic expectations, should they have an opportunity to work with this child again on a longer-term basis.  The co-grandma (DIL's mom) and I are on a private chat with DIL, so kibbitzing a bit.  Grandpa figure (DIL's dad) offered that a group nap might be in order at some point Sunday, and they followed through with some "quiet time" for the youngster.

Looking at it in the light of Monday morning, it's probably not that over the top for a family weekend, when a six year old lives with you!  The boy was picked up in the 5 p.m. hour Sunday by his regular foster mom, and I'm thinking the "respite" foster couple will be crashing early, as it's back to work for both of them on Monday!

Back at my place:  Ember's new toy for Sunday:  an iguana that squeaks.

Ember decided to dig at the mud near the gate, and got some on her suit, so before puppy nap #2, I swapped her out to the T-Shirt and tossed it in the washer with some socks with pink or red on them.  This gave me the chance to check the incision site, and today I could see it, knowing where to look.  It appears to be healing up nicely.

I filled in her name on the suit, so if by some weird circumstance she would get lost while so garbed, it's easier to read than the little tag on her collar.

We played "ItsYerChoice" between the puppy naps, with chicken livers and with bananas, and after Puppy Nap #2 with cheese.  She did great with all three kinds of treats.  Smart, these canines!

Ember had a little melt down mid-afternoon.  In retrospect, she'd been told "no" a lot.  Between the whiskey bottle, I had just dragged her away from her mud-scratching spot outside and now I was again saying "no" to something she wanted... to dig at the couch and strip its slipcover and cushion.  She responded by putting teeth on mom.  I wondered if she was maybe feeling some pain, but at the moment my thought was to preserve my skin.  I did get a couple of minor nicks that bled.  

I went outside and left her in for a Mommy time out.  Not for very long, it's blasted hot out there!  I came back in, washed off, applied Band-Aids, etc.  When I came back in gave me the appeasement face.  Then she laid down on the floor and fell asleep.  While she slept, I calmly reassembled the couch, down to the coverings, and when she later woke, she left it alone.

I put her supper dish out, and she got her second half pill about 4:15 p.m. before going into her den while mom had her own supper and went into pre-bedtime routines for herself.  I went down for the eye drops at 6:15 p.m., but she was not stirring, so I went back upstairs worked on the blog, and deferred "last call" until after 8, hoping it would cool down a bit more.

Congratulate me!  I survived day 2 of spay recovery!  Life is good.  Spark on!