Well, I’ve gotten pretty much no work done today. I suppose I’ll have to do a couple hours each day over the weekend to make up for the lost hours. I couldn’t work because… my dog has been lying on top of me all day. He didn’t seem calm and happy unless he was literally lying on my body. This is a classic sign that R does not feel 100%. Normally, he’s such a boy. He’ll cuddle for an hour or two and then… He wants his space, thanks. To have a cuddle bug for a whole day has always been my absolute sign that I have a puppy that doesn’t feel good.
So. Inconvenient. And also sad.
All that said, he’s doing so. well. today that it’s freaking me out. I suppose that sounds like a weird thing to say for, like, a normal person. But I’m one of those ‘waiting for the other shoe to drop’ types. When things go too well I start to give life the side-eye. “What are you up to?” I ask the Fates. They never answer. Either you get smacked in the face with a smelly fish a few days later, or you feel silly for the magnitude of your pessimism and wonder if you ever fully grew out of your emo phase.
R is already pretty good and hop, hop, hopping about. Honestly, the biggest issue today was convincing him we should just lie around all day. He wanted to be attached to me, but he would have been just as happy to be attached playing tug in the living room or trying his damnest to run around the backyard. (He can’t totally run yet, but, actually kinda yeah. He books it back inside after potty.)
He’s bored already, frankly. I had to let him have the cone off most of the day so he could chew his dura-chew wishbone thing and lick the frozen peanut butter kong and get extraordinary amounts of ear scratches. (I am literally blocking his butt with my arm at all cone-less moments. I’m an obsessive little sh**.)
He’s been good about letting me ice too. As long as I sit there the whole time and stare at him lovingly and… I maybe sang to my dog for, well, four icings at 10-15ish minutes a pop… He’s had almost a solid hour of private concert. Ah, those years of childhood vocal lessons, finally paying off. I was running out of songs, so we broke out the real old-school British lullabies my mom used to sing. We were really digging deep.
Oh! And he. pooped. I know, I know. He’s amaze-balls.
As for me? I find myself less distressed by his lack of leg than I expected to be. I thought I was really going to have to fight through that instinctive ‘wrongness’ I feel for a split second when I see a major injury like that. But… It’s still R’s beautiful little face, and his little bear paws, and his little hop, hop, hopping I think will actually strike me as cute eventually. Now it’s still kinda sad, because he’s hopping because he’s hurt. But eventually. (Hopefully we will get long enough to get to ‘eventually.’)
It probably helped that he wasn’t as drugged out of his little mind today and therefore was more like… R.
I pretty much felt like I was spending a very, very low energy day with… my dog.
Stay tuned. I have heard people describe this healing process as a ‘roller coaster’ like a hundred times. So this appears to be an up. Which implies…
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