Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Had a rather stressful day yesterday…
For those of you who do not know, I’ve three wonderful dogs. And one of them started limping on Sunday… she wasn’t resting her weight on one of her hind legs.
Monday was terrible, coz I couldn’t get transport to a vet. I was apprehensive about booking a cab coz I felt cab drivers wun be keen to have a doggie passenger. My dad’s not in town, and I dun drive, so even though there’s my dad car, it’s effectively useless.
Spent all Monday worrying, feeling utterly useless, and that I had let my pet, who entrusted herself to my family, down (I know, drama-mama, but that’s how I really felt) – I mean, if you’re gonna have a pet, you damn well take excellent care of it, otherwise, forget it.
Finally, he offered to pick me and my dog up Tuesday morning and send us to the vet… there’s a whole bunch of logistic details here that I wun bore you with… but on Tuesday morning, I found myself registering my dog at the vet clinic.
I was happy to see she hadn’t lost her gungho-ness… she was limping around to sniff other dogs’ butts, sniff the legs of the other owners there waiting for their turn… I was like, “hey, stop moving, limping dog!” But still, she persisted to sniff every doggie butt in the waiting area.
When she had completed her mission, she went under a chair and rested there.
Coz this was a walk-in thing… I ended up having to wait for 2-plus hours before I could see the doc. After all the physical examinations, x-rays etc, I was told that she had dislocated her hip bone-thingy.
I’m gonna save you guys the details, but essentially, the vet had to make her fall asleep so they could try to ‘pop’ the bone back in. I guess she was just doing her job and covering her ass, but when she warned me that doing so has its risk, and that, I quote, “some dogs never wake up”, it really hit me and I realised just how serious the matter was.
I mean, you’re thinking… ok, so she’s not immediately dying… it’s a bone thing… yes, I’ve read of old humans who dislocate their hips, suffer in great agony, then die, but I’m just gonna try to not think about that for the moment. Chant: “dogs and humans are different, dogs and humans are different…”
And then when you hear about how there might be a better solution than surgery, you’re relieved. You think, “oh, just pop it back. Yeah, that sounds simple enough!”
THEN, you are told that she may not wake up.
I was so freaked, I’m ashamed to admit this: I cried.
Yes, right in the frigging vet’s office, I cried. Well ok, not really cried lah, but got lots of big fat drops of tears rolling down my cheeks. (that's NOT crying!)
And I clumsily tried to explain to the vet, “I’m sorry, it’s just a big thing.. you’re asking me to make a decision.”
The worst thing, I thought, was that if I screw this decision up, then my mum will kill me. I loved this dog, but my absolute favourite was another one we have. This limping one was my mum’s favourite.
And to top it all off, the limping dog was sitting there, on the vet’s examination table, looking at me with adoring, trusting eyes… it was soooo terrible.
Anyway, end result: bone was willing to be ‘popped’ in, dog’s bandaged up, need to bring her back in a couple of days for check up.
Bill was huge.
I guess I got to reconcile myself to the fact that my dogs will die in a few years… that’s the law of nature.
But I’ll be damned if I dun at least try to fight it off for as long as possible.
For those of you who do not know, I’ve three wonderful dogs. And one of them started limping on Sunday… she wasn’t resting her weight on one of her hind legs.
Monday was terrible, coz I couldn’t get transport to a vet. I was apprehensive about booking a cab coz I felt cab drivers wun be keen to have a doggie passenger. My dad’s not in town, and I dun drive, so even though there’s my dad car, it’s effectively useless.
Spent all Monday worrying, feeling utterly useless, and that I had let my pet, who entrusted herself to my family, down (I know, drama-mama, but that’s how I really felt) – I mean, if you’re gonna have a pet, you damn well take excellent care of it, otherwise, forget it.
Finally, he offered to pick me and my dog up Tuesday morning and send us to the vet… there’s a whole bunch of logistic details here that I wun bore you with… but on Tuesday morning, I found myself registering my dog at the vet clinic.
I was happy to see she hadn’t lost her gungho-ness… she was limping around to sniff other dogs’ butts, sniff the legs of the other owners there waiting for their turn… I was like, “hey, stop moving, limping dog!” But still, she persisted to sniff every doggie butt in the waiting area.
When she had completed her mission, she went under a chair and rested there.
Coz this was a walk-in thing… I ended up having to wait for 2-plus hours before I could see the doc. After all the physical examinations, x-rays etc, I was told that she had dislocated her hip bone-thingy.
I’m gonna save you guys the details, but essentially, the vet had to make her fall asleep so they could try to ‘pop’ the bone back in. I guess she was just doing her job and covering her ass, but when she warned me that doing so has its risk, and that, I quote, “some dogs never wake up”, it really hit me and I realised just how serious the matter was.
I mean, you’re thinking… ok, so she’s not immediately dying… it’s a bone thing… yes, I’ve read of old humans who dislocate their hips, suffer in great agony, then die, but I’m just gonna try to not think about that for the moment. Chant: “dogs and humans are different, dogs and humans are different…”
And then when you hear about how there might be a better solution than surgery, you’re relieved. You think, “oh, just pop it back. Yeah, that sounds simple enough!”
THEN, you are told that she may not wake up.
I was so freaked, I’m ashamed to admit this: I cried.
Yes, right in the frigging vet’s office, I cried. Well ok, not really cried lah, but got lots of big fat drops of tears rolling down my cheeks. (that's NOT crying!)
And I clumsily tried to explain to the vet, “I’m sorry, it’s just a big thing.. you’re asking me to make a decision.”
The worst thing, I thought, was that if I screw this decision up, then my mum will kill me. I loved this dog, but my absolute favourite was another one we have. This limping one was my mum’s favourite.
And to top it all off, the limping dog was sitting there, on the vet’s examination table, looking at me with adoring, trusting eyes… it was soooo terrible.
Anyway, end result: bone was willing to be ‘popped’ in, dog’s bandaged up, need to bring her back in a couple of days for check up.
Bill was huge.
I guess I got to reconcile myself to the fact that my dogs will die in a few years… that’s the law of nature.
But I’ll be damned if I dun at least try to fight it off for as long as possible.
