Gerry

Or at least, I would be in trouble if F.M. thought punishing me would help any.  Perhaps grounding me from my furry bone and new stuffed Rudolph.  *Gasp!*

I know I was naughty, but I couldn’t help it!  I’ve been licking my incision and F.M. didn’t know a thing about it.  We went to the vet today to get my sutures out (F.M. was so excited!) and they told her a small area hadn’t healed yet, that I must have been licking it.  They did take the sutures and staples out, but I’m not done with the e-collar until that heals… grrrrr.  F.M. thought, “Oh no, he must have been sneaking when I let him have it off, and let him lick his privates – but I thought I had been so watching him too carefully for that!”

She had.  I felt so guilty about it that when we got home, I let her see what I had been doing.   My neck and snout and tongue are just long enough to reach around the cone and lick that bit of the incision, if I push the cone as close to my body as it will go.

Well, so much for my good deed confession, because then I had to go right back to the vet!  A very understanding vet tech then took the time to show F.M. that she could move the cone much higher on my neck, right behind my ears and tie it much tighter around my neck to keep it there.  F.M. is still really nervous that I’m going to be able to mess with it.  (Sigh) I really want to too.  But  Angel-boy Yoda never did anything that when he wore the e-collar lower down.  F.M. hasn’t said that, but big brother Spirit Yoda did mention it.

If any pawrents out there have any tips for a rear-leg amputee like me, who needs to let his incision finish healing (and still be able to go potty), let us know.

So now F.M. is all excited about a new little metal box and points IT at me all the time instead of the other one.  At least this one doesn’t have a nasty flash.  She says it’s even better than the other one because you’ll all get to see me move around and stuff.  But how silly is that?  You should all just move to Madison to see me.  Then you can rub my belly and scritch my ears too.  I don’t know why people have to make things so complicated.  Oh well, enjoy F.M.’s first attempt to make me a movie star.

As I was staring at the wall the other day, I was thinking, our pawrents aren’t the only ones who need tips about this amputation business.  So, here area  couple I came up with to start with:

The e-collar (aka “The Cone of Shame” in the movie “Up” – great movie!) – ughhhhh!  Need I say more?  So, here’s a trick that worked for me to get F.M. to give me a break from it:

When you’re wearing the cone, smother your pawrents with love!  It works on them on two levels.  First of all, their little people hearts melt and they want to give you belly rubs and ear scritches and all, and that’s not so easy with the cone on!

On the other level, the cone works a bit like a snow plow (that’s where I got the idea) as you try to reach them.  You gotta keep at them as if the collar weren’t in the way (they’ll think you just haven’t gotten used to it yet and don’t know any better).  Yes, it’s a bit uncomfortable for them, but it’s for the greater good of our recovery (I heard a vet say that about wearing the e-collar, but I say it’s just as true about not wearing it all the time).   They’ll probably put it right back on if they have to leave the house or the room, but oh well.  Be warned too, that if you make it hard for them to get the e-collar back on, your pawrents will be less likely to take it off for a break in the future!

Then I have one more tip for us rear-leg amputee boys (or any girls out there who like to pee boy-style).  If you live in an area that gets snow, it is possible to raise your back leg to pee – sort of – if you have a snow bank.  What I did was get my back foot up the side of one before I let it flow.  If you have the flexibility and practice it a bit, I’m pretty sure it’s possible to get some good height with that method.  For you new front-leg amputees, Spirit Yoda told me that lifting either back leg was no big thing, but that you should remember to concentrate on your balance, because it won’t be as easy as before.

Let me know how these tips work for you all.  Maybe most of you have figured them out already.  I’d love to hear more tips from the rest of you – I’m only 11 days post-amputation, so I’m sure there is plenty to learn that I haven’t, and that even Spirit Yoda didn’t figure out while he was here.

Before I go – guess what folks!  I might be down to using no more Tramadol!  So far so good today.  Then maybe I’ll be done with the Rimadyl soon and that’ll be no more meds to trouble my tummy.  Maybe that will take care of my shakes finally too, though one theory is my muscles are just tired.  We’ll see!

Hey all,

Sorry I haven’t posted in a while, especially since I have plenty to tell.

I had a rough time for a few days.  First, too much pain and not enough Tramadol.  Made me a bit crazy and yelpie.  Even at the max. dosage I was still uncomfortable enough that I didn’t want to lie down anymore.  Even though I was laying on my incision side when I first came home, I do not want to do it anymore and, frankly, I thought for a while that laying down at all was a bad idea.  So I stood or paced and sometimes layed my head on F.M.’s arm, hand, or knee, or even an end table, to take a break from the weight of it.  I get the shakes too – less so lately.  All this kind of freaked F.M. out and then she decided she couldn’t sleep either, which didn’t seem like a good idea.  F.M. suspects this wouldn’t have happened if I had gotten a Fentanyl patch like Yoda did, but it wasn’t just pain that was bugging me.  My tummy was upset and I got diarrhea next.  I’ll skip details on that, but some canned pumpkin and a “bland” diet of boiled chicken and rice took care of that.

But my digestive system wasn’t all better from that.  F.M. dropped me off at the vet on Tuesday to try figure out all my problems and the vet said it sounded like my GI tract wasn’t moving well.  The max. dose of Tramadol I’ve been apparently did that.  So now I’ve got more medicine for that (Metoclopramide and Pepcid AC aka famotidine).  If possible, F.M. is supposed to wean me down to a lower dose of Tramadol too to make it easier on my GI tract, but I had a bad night with pain last night after we got home from the vet, so that was unthinkable.  I kept getting these sudden pains that made me instinctively yelp and bolt away.  I’m better this morning, though I don’t feel like eating much.  No pains worth yelping about so far and I can lay down pretty comfortably and snooze.  F.M. has been snoozing too.  Thank dog – she wears me out!

Whooo!  So that’s where I’ve been.  I came up with a bunch of ideas for posts while I was pacing and staring at the walls though, so I post them soon and there are even a few pictures to go along.  I’m glad to be back and to stare at the computer screen (and read all your posts) instead of the just our walls.

Just wanted to let you all know I made it home from the vet today as expected.   Hooooorrrrrray!!!!

I didn’t get into too much trouble at the vet’s, (at least that’s what we’re telling F.M.) but I did manage to chew through my collar. What can I say?  I wanted a new one, not the hand-me-down from the shelter.  But I am sorry that the vet had to lend us one of their leashes that loop around the neck – mostly because it’s not as comfortable.

Getting around on three paws is a breeze.  But surgery makes me sleepy.  I ate lots as soon as I got home and we’ve been napping off and on since.  (Yeah, that is a picture from today.  I”m laying on my incision side).

F.M. redecorated for me, she says, but why would she think I would want the couch turned around?  I have no idea.  No one can get on it now!  And all the rugs she put down are nice, but what for?   I think being alone for two days messed with her head, but I’m not going to mention it.  I just wag my tail like I don’t notice her odd behavior.

Alright, some of you want to see the incision right?  Maybe those of you who are pawrents of a tripawd-to-be.  I have no bandage, so you’re gonna get a clear look, brace yourself:

Oh, that didn’t come out as big as I thought I would.  You can see the stitches, but the staples are probably too small to see.

That look on my face has nothing to do with my missing leg or any physical pain – it’s that darn camera and it’s flash.  Ugh.  I know it’s for a good cause, but no more pictures today!  I’m supposed to be getting spoiled, right?  Well, that is my first request for how F.M. can spoil me during my recovery.  She can use that old camcorder thing instead, if she has to, and retro-post it when she gets the footage converted.

Thanks for all your prayers and well wishes!

Hey everybody!  I know by the time this is published I’ll be at the vet’s – ick.    As if a car ride isn’t bad enough without that to look forward to at the end of it.  I don’t see why they couldn’t just chop the ol’ leg off here!  But whatever.  F.M. will get me there even if I can’t help, but resist.

Let’s think happier thoughts in the meantime, like what an awesome time I had at the park this past Sunday!  Why didn’t F.M. take me there sooner???

Well, perhaps you can see me toe-touching with my back left leg there – I suppose that’s why F.M. didn’t take me to the park until our last chance to go before the operation.  I started practicing being three-legged while we were at the park and continued now and then since.  F.M. had mixed feelings about that – sorry that she had let me run enough to hurt more, but also a little glad for confirmation that I really do need the amputation – this knee isn’t going to get any better!

I packed in a lot of play time into that short visit and made a lot of friends.

Alas between my knee and the cold, we only went around once.  Like my coat?  It was big brother Yoda’s.  Can you see the family resemblance now below?

We’re like twins!  Haha, okay not really.

I like how the cold keeps scents fresh.  Like the smell of little hibernating animals – long after they’ve moved on.  I got fooled the other day and pounced on a snow dune.  No tasty rodents inside, but I made a nice snow angel.

Proud of my snow angel-making, though a rodent would have been tastier

I like my coat okay for keeping me warm, but it can be a nuisance to take on and off, so sometimes if F.M. takes too long getting her own coat off or whatever, I go about my regular routine, rather than waiting around.

Ahhh, I’m going to miss that couch for the next couple weeks, sigh.

So, unless Wyatt found one already, I think he and I need to start a support group for dogs with three big predecessor pawprints to fill.  Check out my spirit foster brother Yoda:

He was a brave guy who took on an amputation and bone cancer and chemo made it all look easy for four months.

Awwwww, what a guy – right?

Well that’s okay if you feel that way.  I’m not jealous -much, cause I know that underneath that  “I’m such a quiet, good dog” exterior is a champion rabbit slayer and he’s going to teach me how to hunt rodents on three legs as well as the next four-legged dog.  He has already taught me some good tips about getting F.M.’s attention and what to expect from my crazy foster cousin Gracie.  Now she and I look more like siblings, but the crazy gene skipped me.

No pictures, please!

Ugh, those darn little metal things with their big awful flashes!  I try to tell F.M., no pictures, please!  F.M. is my nickname for my foster mom, though I sound out the letters and pronounce it by first sneezing (“Fffff”) and then groaning (“Mmmmm”).  Both are easy to do as I’m getting over the sniffles and my knee has been hurting.  Anyway, I call her F.M. to add in the fun of giving her a hard time about her insistence that we’re not going to talk adoption yet.  So I rub it in – “But Fff!! Mmmmm!  Look at how adorable I am.  Everyone at Tripawds says we have to adopt each other.”  Oh, and those of you who I’m talking about will love this: today Yoda’s oncologist even said so!  Haha.  We haven’t met, but F.M. e-mailed her a quick note about me and a picture because she was just so darn nice to her and Yoda.  (Don’t worry new folks, I’ll fill you in on my big brother Spirit Yoda in a later post – oh sorry, F.M., I mean foster spirit big brother!)  And you know me and F.M. getting together has been riddled with coincidences (a topic of another post to come soon probably) and one fo them is that Yoda’s oncologist is from Ireland and my orthopedic surgeon is too!  My surgeon will be doing my operation for free this week while on vacation here in the states, meanwhile Yoda’s oncologist will be on her way home to Ireland for the holidays! 

But I digress… so I hate cameras, but F.M. has explained to me the importance of this social network thingy (and I love socializing!).  We all gotta stay in touch so that our pawrents don’t crack under the pressure of having the best dogs ever under less than the best circumstances. 

However, if I’m going to give in to having my life documented, I’m going to have a paw in it!  So, I will have creative control of my blawg (shoudn’t it be spelled blawg?).

So here are my stats (as best we know them):

• I’m about 2 years old
• I’m a mix, maybe part doberman like my big bro, but my long tail and coloring also strongly resemble my foster cousin, Gracie.  But we don’t know what she is, so that doesn’t really help
• I need my back left leg amputated because of irrepairable traumatic damage to my back left knee.  I get around okay now, but apparently because I had some early damage that messed up a growth plate, and they don’t think they could sort it all out with surgery.  On the bright side, the long recovery time where I wouldn’t be allowed to run and play after a knee surgery sounded awful!
• I love to carry leaves.  Fuzzy toys from pet store are a pretty good substitute.  Also F.M.’s gloves… a baseball cap… my leash… a remote control (though F.M. barked at me when I tried that one though – she watches too much TV though)… lots of things are good for carrying.  Maybe I have some retriever in me.
• I love and am loved by humans of all ages
• Other dogs are fun too!
• I’m “clawstrophobic” (?).  That’s what F.M. says.  I prefer to say that I am just too much love to be contained in a crate, car, or even gated in a room.  My big fat aura of love for all the world will bust out of all of them if given less than half a chance!!

Well just kind of jumped into this first post head first.  Had to test it out, but no more time to perfect it tonight.  Gotta walk and then get F.M. to bed.