Not Quite the Worst Case Scenario

I was leaving for Nashville in less than 12 hours, so it was unsurprising that we found ourselves at the vet – Gwynn had gone from limping on Monday to having trouble getting to his feet on Thursday.  A thorough exam later and we were sent home with the diagnosis of ‘strained muscle in back’, some muscle relaxants and instructions to come back next week.

I headed out to Nashville (awesome place!) safe in the knowledge that my family had it covered in the Dog department.  Frequent check-ins reveal they’re still only taking him on short walks, but the meds are doing their trick.

Almost exactly a week later, I’m on a bus somewhere in the US and getting a frantic series of texts.  With pictures (that I’m not going to share with you because you’re welcome).  In the winning submission for most traumatic belly-rub ever, Doodle discovered that Gwynn’s “back issues” were actually from an oozing, swollen and painful wound fully hidden in the thick fluff of Gwynn’s armpit.  From what we can tell, he must have hit a tree branch at speed when we were last out in the woods.

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This was his ‘stoned Cindy Lauper Lamp’ phase.  

Painting by numbers:

10 days the dog was in pain before we properly identified the issue

6 hours and a border crossing away from him when he’s checked in to the vet.

4 days at home during which time I could have identified the issue before it became so terribly infected

2 days at the vet with the worst blunt-force injury my vet had EVER seen, requiring a great deal of surgery to remove infection.

4″ of stitches along his arm-pit, that, because it had been sitting for so long, still had a huge amount of infection.

6 pills spread out throughout the day to combat pain, swelling and infection

7 days before he could semi-comfortably make it around the l

10 days during which the wound oozed nearly constantly, requiring the living room to be coated in a constantly refreshed layer of towels.

To add insult to injury we got the stitches removed yesterday at the same time as he was diagnosed with a skin infection on his nose.

It’s not the worst case possible, I keep telling myself, but it came far too close for comfort.

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On a more positive note, Gwynn has been thoroughly enjoying the freedom I’ve given him from leash during his lamp-phase.  That and the food – I don’t think the dog will willingly go back to kibble.  He’s eating better than a university student home for the holidays.

Murphy Plays with Fire, and my Mental Health

I was pretty pleased with myself.  I found a copy of The Girl Who Played with Fire for the rock-bottom price of $2.99.  It would perfectly complement the copies of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and The Girl who Kicked the Hornets’ NestI was sure it would look great right between them on the shelf.

For those of you unaware of the Stieg Larsson series, the book I bought, that was the second book in the trilogy.

At one point, prior to my purchase, we had all three of them.   The second went walking, before I got the chance to read it.  It’s been gone at least 6 months, so I figured the grieving period is over, and I might as well purchase when the option of a low-priced purchase arises.  We had established that no-one in the house had lent it, or brought it somewhere with them.  It was last seen… with the other books, on the book shelf.  It just… went away.

Within an hour of arriving home and proudly showing the family the sheer genius of I, the purchase of a replacement second-book… I found the original copy, the one that has been missing for 6 months or more.  It was sitting on the book-shelf in Doodle’s room, the same Doodle who has not yet read any part of the series, and has no interest in reading it.  Or, for that matter, moving the second book into her room.

Murphy: 1, My Sanity: 0.