Wednesday, June 07, 2006, 19:39
Feeling Faint
Talk about a gruesome experience. I took Charlie to the vet clinic yesterday afternoon because the area around the sutures on his shoulder was so swollen and puffy.
The vet decided he ought to put in a drain tube.
With the vet tech holding our Springer Spaniel's front end and me holding his back end, the vet sliced into the skin next to the sutures. (He had already administered a local anesthetic.)
"Look out," he said. "It's going to gush."
And gush it did. There must have been a pint of blood-tinged fluid all together. A real mess. All over Charlie. All over the floor.
It only took a few minutes to insert the drain tube and suture it into the skin.
Then the vet helped me get Charlie out to the truck.
"Do you have towels?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Do you want more?"
"No," I said. "I think I've got enough."
I had one towel on the seat where Charlie was sitting, and I took the towel off my seat and put it over the back of Charlie's seat.
Charlie looked like an accident victim. Bright-red blood covered his chest from the top of his shoulder down to his legs.
"Okay, Charles," I said. "We're going to get home as quickly as possible. But I've got to go to the bank first."
When I pulled up at the drive-up window at the bank, the teller either almost had a heart attack or almost passed out -- or both.
"Oh, my God. What happened to your dog?" she said. "What happened to him?"
"He had surgery on his shoulder and just now, they put in a drain tube."
"Oh," she said.
Even through the glass by the drive-up window, I could tell she looked a little peaked and somewhat green.
The lady took care of my bank transaction -- and along with the deposit slip, included two biscuits for Charlie.
"I hope your dog gets better soon," she said.
"Me, too," I said.
As I drove away, I decided I felt a little green around the gills myself. The smell of blood was very strong in the truck. Even with the windows rolled down and the vent open and the fan on medium high.
Charlie started to lick and get himself cleaned up. It wasn't until we were out on the highway that he laid down on the seat.
"What are you doing Charlie?" I asked.
The dog was nosing around in the cupholder in front of the seats by the gear shift.
"Oh," I said. "Are you ready for your biscuits now?"
I had put Charlie's biscuits in the cupholder. And yes, indeed, he was ready for his biscuits.
By the time we got home, the towels were pretty well soaked with blood. I don't think any of it seeped into the upholstery, though.
It's a challenge, I have discovered, trying to keep Charlie from licking the sutures on his belly and from scratching the sutures on his shoulder. The backwards t-shirt works well for the belly, except that I think Charlie gets REALLY HOT when it's 90 degrees and he's wearing a t-shirt. The shirt covers not only his back end, but his flanks and back, as well.
So today, Charlie is wearing a pair of shorts.
Purple shorts.
Nylon, baggy, purple shorts.
I took a piece of twine string, knotted up the waistband, tied the twine string around the waistband and tied the twine string to Charlie's collar.
So far, the shorts are working out all right. Charlie doesn't seem to feel so over-heated with just the shorts on. But the shorts are enough to keep him from licking the sutures on his belly.
I must say, though. I certainly am getting my exercise, running outside every 10, 15 or 20 minutes to make sure that Charlie is all right, that he's not digging at the drain tube with his hind foot and that the shorts are staying up. . .
LeAnn R. Ralph
Tuesday, June 06, 2006, 18:56
Beep-Beep!
As soon as I walked in the barn Monday night, I knew the raccoon was there. I heard claws on wood. And when I shined the flashlight up by the ceiling, I saw the critter. It had climbed up the post by the door.
"You don't belong here," I said. "Momma kitties do not want you by their babies, and I do not want you by their babies."
According to various websites about raccoons, the masked bandits will kill kittens and puppies if given the opportunity. Kittens, puppies and young rabbits can end up being part of their diet. (Not in my barn, if I've got anything to say about it.)
"You should go now," I said to the raccoon.
The creature sat there looking at me.
I climbed up on the tractor and turned on the headlights.
Then I reached for the horn button.
BEEP-BEEEEEEEEEEP-BEEEP-BEEP!
The raccoon blinked and looked uncomfortable.
BEEP-BEEEEEEEEEEP-BEEEP-BEEP!
The raccoon blinked again.
BEEP-BEEEEEEEEEEP-BEEEP-BEEP!
Finally, it had enough and scurried down the post and across the new hay we had put in the barn on Sunday.
I leaped off the tractor and went after it.
The raccoon dove between the wall and the hay -- right where the little kittens have been hanging out. We had to rearrange the barn on Sunday to put in the hay, and the kittens have had to make adjustments, too.
In an instant, both momma kitties were fighting mad. They leaped down through the hole in the hay, right on the tail of the raccoon, their own tails fluffed to six times their normal size, hair standing up on the backs of their necks, and growling low in their throats.
It was quite spectacular.
The old mother cat followed the raccoon into the lean-to, and I could hear her, growling.
I went outside, grabbed the flat steel thingy-ma-dingy that we use to scrape the lawn mowers and began banging on the tin.
"Get out of here! Go away!" I yelled. "Get out of here!"
I banged on the tin some more and yelled some more. Then I paused to listen -- and couldn't hear a thing. Not Momma Kitty and nothing else.
I went into the barn and put out a handful of kitty food. Both momma kitties came to eat immediately. I figured if the raccoon was still around, the momma cats would not want to eat.
And throughout the whole ordeal, I kept thinking, "Where's Charlie when I need him? He would chase that raccoon away!"
But of course, Charlie was in the house, in his kennel, being mindful of his sutures.
This morning when I went to the barn, I saw six of the kittens. I hope the other three are all right. I am hoping they were hiding out under the hay.
And speaking of Charlie, I have to take him back to the vet clinic this afternoon. The area around and under the sutures on his shoulder is blowing up. It looks like there's a balloon under the skin. And it's soft and puffy. I thought his shoulder looked a little puffy last night, but nothing like it does today.
LeAnn R. Ralph