I know, I know, its been "almost a whole year since you've posted"...yes, it has, however things have been so bananas lately, I haven't (correction, mom) had a spare minute. Until today.
See, this past week I've started to walk with, what mom is calling, "a pimp limp". It started on Sunday and then throughout my week, its been getting worse instead of better. Which had mom on high alert since, ya know, I'm her favorite son and everything. (Even if its not 100% true anymore, I will never believe anything different!) I had been favoring my right leg all week, taking it slow while walking, not going up/down the stairs with my normal ease and grace. Then yesterday, WHAM-OH, its my left leg. Like, causing me to walk with a "pimp limp" because I'm literally off balance and cannot go places. Great.
While mom was in between meetings yesterday, she called the vet's office and was able to get me an appointment for today! Super! I love car rides!
Well, funny thing happened last night. A GIANT storm rolled through and caused us to loose power. Twice. Mom didn't know that. So this morning when Lil' Dude came in for his morning snuggles at 5:30, mom was concerned because it was "too early". When he returned for more love at 7:30, mom sent him back to his room (I heard all this going on from my kennel in the kitchen by the way. I don't get the joy of sleeping on mom and dad's nice, big-enough-for-us-all-bed. Instead I sleep in my "house" in the kitchen, with my own blanket. Annnnyway, when mom woke up at 8:30, she realized that all the clocks in the kitchen were blinking, so she reset them. Then it hit her, like a lightning bolt. She had reset them to 9:45. NINE?! Where'd that hour go?! Yikes!
In a fiery flash mom was upstairs, putting on a hat and giving Lil' Dude and dad some kisses, grabbing me (gently, of course. I'm injured after all) and popped into the car for the 5 minute ride to the vet.
Funny thing about our vet's office. Its small. The waiting area is about 8'x8'. (Do you know how small that is when every other patient is on a leash, and they wanna sniff your butt, but you don't feel good, so instead your hiding behind your moms legs? Its small. Trust me.) After waiting patiently (and getting lots of treats from mom's special treat pocket!) It was our turn to go into The Room of Doom! (enter scary music!)
Although they paint it beige and have sensible flooring, don't let it fool you. Its got needles and pokes and Q-tips written all over it! As expected I got poked "just a little pinch" and they did a heartworm test..then the doctor came in. She's really nice and smells good, but she's always giving us bad news. Like "he has an ear infection" or "his allergies are really bad this year" so when she told mom, "we need to take him back and have some X-Rays done, I knew I was doomed (enter scary music).
As expected, the X-Rays were awful. They held me down with thick metal shackles and beat me til I stopped wiggling. (Ok I'm exaggerating. But only a little. It was AWFUL guys!) But when mom was called back to view them, I knew I was in it deep. Yup, the X-Rays showed nothing. HU!? WHAT THE HECK, DOC?! Clearly my pimp-limp isn't just for the ladies...They were clean as a whistle (which I once heard whistles are actually incredibly dirty and awful and gross. Quite the opposite of clean if ya ask me!)
When mom started explaining that I was all walking all "cock-eyed" (she didn't say "pimp-limp" to the doctor. I wonder why??? Could it be disrespectful mom? Maybe even slightly embarrassing?) The nice vet-tech took me for a lil gander around the back office. That's when my macho bravado wore off (adrenaline) and I showed my true colors. It was confirmed, my pimp-limp was caused by a torn ACL on my left leg and a possible tear on the right.
In typical, "that's-my-mom" fashion she started crying. (And let's talk for a second. Mom doesn't cry. She only cries when she's super-duper upset. Or when she wants to high-five someone in the face with a chair, but can't because its illegal...) So when I saw mom crying, I knew it was time to get the heck outta there! The tech handed mom a tissue (which was gross in about .3 seconds!) and filled her in on the details of what our options were. Mainly, surgery. EEK!
I've only had one surgery before and lets say I walked in with a few more "things" between my legs than when I left. Nuff said, right? I don't really like the idea of surgery (especially since that night after my "boy surgery" I was so doped up, I walked into the riser of one of the exterior stairs on the apartment building mom was living in...it wasn't one of my finer moments.)
When mom called Nana to fill her in, she brought up a great point. When my buddy Winston (remember that ol' fella?) had a torn ACL a few years ago, it was recommended by the vet (a different vet, but same office mom and I go to) to let it heal on its own. (Hu. I KNEW I loved my Nana!)
So now mom, dad and me are left with the decision of surgery or no surgery. Based on my behavior today I say I'm fiiiiiiine now. (oh wait, that's probably just the pain pills). Either way, I think I'm gonna hold off on surgery for now. As long as I can "get plenty of R&R" I should be okay in about 8 weeks-ish. (What that really means is I get to be babied, like, well, a baby, and taken care of, and get lots of kisses, hugs, snuggles and treats, but no long walks.)
Sorry I don't have any pictures to attach to this post. Mom said she'll work on getting one up...
In the meantime, wish me luck on my R&R journey! I wonder what movie Lil' Dude and I will watch tomorrow while I'm R&R-ing!