If you are squeamish about b-l-o-o-d, then skip the parts I tell you to skip. Remember, I warned you.
I have been getting treated for my left hip having dysplasia. B12 shots, acupuncture, hydrotherapy, all good. I was starting to feel much better and not even limping, then I started limping on my right foot and licking it incessantly. Mom couldn’t see anything wrong with it, but we both knew it hurt or I wouldn’t be licking it. Finally, she saw that my middle toenail was jutting out at an odd angle. She trimmed it back a little so it wasn’t hitting the floor when I walked and that helped, but not enough. Alert, skip the next paragraph if you are faint of heart (FoH).
This morning started out with me tracking blood all over the kitchen floor. Other places too, but no one noticed until I hit the white tile floor.
You FoH people can start reading again.
Mom put a cheap, disposable plastic glove over my foot, then tied a cheap green bandana – that I refused to wear around my neck – around the glove. She called the new vet and we got the first appointment of the day. I was in the car about 3 seconds before I had that horrible glove-bandana contraption off and was back to licking it. Pretty soon not only my breath but the whole car smelled like blood. Oops, sorry, forgot to give the warning.
We got the the vet’s office and a different doctor, Dr. Smith, saw me. Let me add here that when Mom saw the vet tech walk in the room with the glass stick, Mom said, “No, I don’t think Lexi will need her temperature taken today. Let’s try to keep this a good place for her to come.” Yay, Mommy! While we waited for the vet to come in, Mom explained to me that he might have to do something that would hurt a lot, but it would be quick and my foot wouldn’t hurt any more after that.
This next part might be a bit much for you FoH folks. Just sayin’, proceed at your own risk. Hey, there’s a nice picture at the bottom!
The doc examined my nail and told Mom it was only hanging on by a thread, or the quick, or something like that, and he would have to pull it off. Mom said he could get her from the waiting room when he was done and she deserted me. I knew she was waiting to hear my scream, so I just gritted my teeth and didn’t make a sound. I waited for my revenge, which came as soon as the vet let go of my foot. I shook it as hard as I could and blood sprayed all over the entire room. Ha, ha, ha. That’ll teach them. They had to clean everything before they could go get Mom and tell her I was ready to go.
OK, you FoH folks. You can finish reading now.
I went to work with my foot all bandaged up. They even put a little no-slip pad on the bottom to keep me from, well, from slipping. Tonight Mom had to take it off to check it and re-wrap it. She didn’t do as good of a job, but I guess that’s cause they are professionals. She even lost the tape sometime between removing the old wrap, spraying cold water on my poor foot to remove the dried b-l-o-o-d, towel drying it, and wrapping it again. Now I have a layer of gauze, a layer of vet wrap, and a layer of white duck tape. Sheesh.