Chance went in to the vet Tuesday to have the bandages taken off his rear leg, where the little useless dewclaw was removed. (Miraculously the bandage was still on, though much chew-frayed). He had pulled open two of the four stitches, which had gotten infected; of course we couldn’t see that through the bandage. He hadn’t damaged them by chewing, they’d torn from his too-active antics (though as prescribed, he didn’t go for any walks, nor have any training sessions till Monday). We were supposed to keep him quiet, which we did to the best of our ability, but he is a strong, athletic young guy, bursting with energy. So he had a laser treatment, got a new bandage, antibiotics and: tranquilizers.
Which was just as well, because by Tuesday evening, I had started to feel pretty strange, enough that I asked Paul to take over as handler at puppy class, something I don’t usually do (and the trainers don’t recommend). The vet, recognizing Chance’s energy and personality, had said, “He’ll heal anyways eventually, go ahead and take him to class before you start the meds, he needs that.”
He certainly did. After nearly a week off to recuperate, Chance was a total, out-of-control rotten brat, though Paul didn’t let him get away with anything. By the end of class, I was a soupy, eye-watering, nose-dripping, coughing mess, and I stayed that way for over 48 hours. I had so far escaped any sort of flu or respiratory problems in 2014, even sailing through three polar vortexes, and yet, as soon as the weather finally got good: wham. I had plans, but everything shut down and Wednesday I slept and slept and was miserable the little time I was awake, though I did do a brief training session with Chance as best as I could: that boy needs it, tranquilizers, flu-ridden owner or not. Paul had to be out Thursday, so I stayed semi-awake, watching Chance’s half-tranquilized butt (I cut the pills in half during the day; the full dose makes him wobbly drunk). At night he gets a whole pill and everyone sleeps and heals. Today, finally, I can breathe and I’m hoping the pup’s leg is healing too.
Why the garden needs (standing-up) fences: we put these down when we found Chance shoulder-deep in mud last month; you can see his impressive hole lower right. He may have dug out a giant hosta I put in this shady spot last year, but I have more to transplant if need be.
Though a rainy weekend is predicted, very soon I’ll be busy at one of my favorite aspects of life / work, in the garden: cleaning up for spring, feeding, scattering some early hardy seeds, trimming back roses, red-twig dogwood and mulberry, making and putting up a new tall trellis for the clematis, and fencing everything so I can enjoy both pup and plants.
The past few days were just a bump in the road: I’m still liking my life now better than ever. This is one of the best things I’ve read lately that describes why. It’s spot-on.