I’d rather get a rootcanal myself…


Today was quite stressful in RL. My dear puppy had surgery this morning, planned and needed. He was born with dewclaws, on both of his hind legs, and while they cosmetically did not bother me at all, they were becoming a risk for himself getting hurt. Those little nails keep growing and never wear out, as they never touch the surface (I had them clipped every 2 months), and the fleshy part itself got stuck in grass and carpets – to a point where he had already hurt one – the danger is them getting ripped off completely by accident, which would make a nasty wound and a traumatic experience.


The Yorkshire Dales

Over here you are, by the way, only allowed to have them removed by a Vet and only for medical reasons, never cosmetic. Anyway, I had to bring him in this morning and could keep him on my lap till the anesthetics worked and he was totally knocked out. And then I went home, waiting for the phone call to pick him up again which was an hour later. I got a groggy, moaning, puppy back home and he wasn’t feeling well. He peed in his bed, threw up all over the place and couldn’t stand or walk. I found it heartbreaking…..Yeah, I’d rather have a root-canal myself than seeing my pup so sad and helpless.

The Yorkshire Dales
All is fine now, around 6PM he seemed to have woken up…and he started drinking (finally!) and had some food. He even barked at the ducks. All will be fine soon. I now need to relax too!

Pics in this blog-post are some snapshots I took at The Yorkshire Dales the other night, a very lovely place for pics!

 

 

 

4 thoughts on “I’d rather get a rootcanal myself…

  1. You had those claws out of compassion for your puppy, who’s lucky to be with someone who cares as much as do you. My absolute worst day at the vet’s was when the best cat I ever owned, a Russian Blue we just called Blue, was so ill with feline leukemia he wasn’t spending very many days well, and posed a real danger of contagion to other cats (despite having been neutered, he was an avid scrapper with other cats who weren’t his friends). We took him to the vet and I petted him and looked him int the eyes as he left this life. We took him home, and my big, tough, 6-foot tall high school son wept with me as we buried him in our yard.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s