Monday, June 30, 2014

dog fight

So, Murphy totally got mauled by a pit bull the last week of school.  For real.  He was hanging out in the front yard with Ben and Brady when a youngish (19?) girl walked by with a pit bull on a harness and leash and pushing a baby in a stroller.  Guess Murphy looked like a squirrel, because that dog dragged the girl down and attacked poor Murph.  Had a death grip on his neck and the boys used tennis rackets to get it to let go.  Nothing but fun over here.  He was left with a nice gash on his neck so I took him to an animal hospital to get him checked out.  A zillion dollars and hours later, we were sent home with a drainage tube stitched into his neck and instructions on how to care for him for the next few weeks. I will be the first to admit I am not one of  "those" dog owners.  I mean, I love our dogs, and both Murphy and Buddy are stellar dogs, but I'm not necessarily a super compassionate dog owner.  Had his vet bill been about $50 more, I would have chosen the $30 one-time shot and given him a "see ya on the flip side" high five.  But, I did my best, and followed all of the instructions about pain/antibiotics meds, hand feeding, hydrating, cleaning the wound, etc.  We both pulled through the traumatic event and Murphy is 100% back to his old self!

Sad dog waiting to see the vet

Cate went to the hospital with me.  After his initial exam, the vet asked me if I thought it was ok for Cate to be in the room when she started to show me Murphy's wounds.  Stupid question.  Cate was all up in Murphy's business with her nose in that wound asking about muscles and bones and if they would show her his brain.  I blame her infatuation with gross stuff to my obsession with Trauma: Life in the ER when she was an infant.  Many of her early months were spent lounging on my couch watching doctors save inner city gunshot victims! 

Anyhoo... the vet gave me two options:  Plan A was close to seven figures and involved a lot of tests and procedures.  I told her that was a no-go.  I think my exact words were "There is no way my husband is going to let me pay that.  Just do what  you can to get him well enough that I can take him home and we'll take it from there".  He passed all of her nerve and reflex tests so I was confident this was just a bad gash and he would survive.  Luckily, I was right.  I took Cate home because it was a school night and then I waited until they called at 1:30am to say he was awake from surgery and ready to go home.

This may be my favorite picture of all time.  When they handed him to me, he was still pretty drugged and completely stiff.  He felt like one of Cate's American Girl horses.  I laughed so hard in the vet lobby because I could not get over it.  His tongue was permanently hanging out and he looked drunk. I still laugh when I see this picture! Future yearbook material for sure :-)
The vet tech thought he looked funny too and added a Mohawk....bahahahaha

Yes, that's wound juice on my sheets.  (I'm picturing my BFF Jen puking as she looks at this picture).  Don't worry, those sheets have been burned

The morning after.  Epitome of a bad hair day.

Wearing Cate's old jammies so he can't scratch his wound

After a few weeks of requiring a ridiculous amount of attention, Murphy was ready to get his stitches out.  He is totally back to his "normal" self now and is rockin' some pretty cool scars. 

 70 years old and still going strong! RUFF!

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