Hmm, that title probably gives away my age.
Welcome to Minnesota! Winter hellhole of the US! This is our 3rd “Polar Vortex” this winter, as ‘they’ call it, and the thermometer reads -18 degrees this morning. Polar Vortex. Don’t you just love media coined terminology? I’m so happy there’s a medium out there that can break hard and scary things down like winter cold into palatable little bits that the layman can digest.
You’re probably thinking, “Jesus, Sarah. Take a vacation already”. And I’m trying. It’s just been an especially hard winter with having to put a very angry dad in a nursing home and having to deal with a mother that is unable and unwilling to run a household on her own. That, combined with the bitter cold, has made Mama bulldog plow through her Christmas wine in a record 10 days.
OK, OK. I promise not to make this post about me teetering on the dark edge of self control. I can talk still talk about funny and gross things and I’ll save my parent’s drama for another post. So here it goes:
Peterbilt’s knee surgery was on 1/10/14 and it just so happened that God decided to bless us with 20 degree weather that day. Peterbilt did just fine in surgery as we expected. However, soon after, we found out we dodged a bullet we didn’t even know about.
I called the doctor the day of surgery to check in on Peterbilt. She said he was doing fine and was still groggy, but vomited as a side effect of the morphine. Not that the vomiting was unusual, it was just what he threw up that was. She said Peterbilt upchucked what appeared to be part of a red, rubber ball.
Red ball…….red ball. We didn’t have any red balls around our house. Just two blue ones-BADUMCHING! Sorry, Hubs. On many levels…….
I told the doctor that I could not explain how such an entity ended up in Peter’s stomach but that he has always been prone to eating some pretty weird shit. But either way, the doctor said we should be so glad he threw it up, or otherwise we would have had to pay for a stomach extraction surgery as well. Okay then!
“But that’s not all”, said the Doc. “We also noticed a hot spot underneath his neck that we didn’t see on him yesterday in his pre-op appointment.”
“A Hot Spot? I didn’t notice a hot spot”, I said.
“Well sometimes a new food or treat and cause a sudden breakout.”
That was my bad. In my own guilt about subjecting Peterbilt to yet another surgery, I bought him a fancy bully stick and let him eat it the night before surgery. Way to meddle, Mom.
The doctor gave us some topical spray to take care of that. Which sounds easier than pills, but is not. Which, to fast forward to today, resulted in us having to repeatedly chase down an injured bulldog to spray his shaved neck with a cold fluid, as he tried to hobble away.
“That’s still not all”, said Dr. Emptyyourwallet.
She began to tell us of her report on our “special” request. That morning when we dropped Peterbilt off, we had informed the doctor of Peterbilt’s “mass ass-juicing”(see 12/12/13 post G.T.E https://houseoffarts.wordpress.com/2013/12/12/g-t-e/ ) and to have her check his bum out while he was under. Basically, his anal glands were perpetually dripping with butt soup, all over the place, for reasons unknown. It was getting so bad that everywhere he sat he left a big, sloppy smooch………with his ass.
It’s things like these that prepare us to be parents, I suppose.
The doctor told me that she pretty much got a money shot in the face after just poking at one. She proceeded with the rest of the expressing (god bless, her) but was still unsure as of why there was so much fluid being produced. She Googled. She determined that Peterbilt’s diet of commercial raw meat was not giving his body enough fiber, which was in turn causing his ass to do some strange things. She recommended that we put him on a specialty diet. She informed me that because of his large size, the diet would be “astronomical” for us. $180 a month.
I thanked her for her research and offered to “revisit” that once we hit the lottery.
So, since then, Peterbilt has been doing just fine. The first few days he was pretty subdued, coming off of the sedatives. Then he was back to his old tricks again. He’s managed to jump up on our bed (a big no-no) a dozen times or so because we forgot to shut the bedroom door.
Last Sunday, he also scared the shit out of my husband on Sunday when he bulldozed past me to run outside and jumped in the back of truck. Thank God this dog is all out of ACL’s to tear.
We probably let him roam the house a lot than he should, but due to the cold, we can’t exactly take him for walks outside. His range of motion with his leg is pretty good considering surgery was less than 2 weeks ago. Mack has shown signs of jealously with all of the attention on Peterbilt, but shove a treat in his face and all is forgotten. We are trying to figure out other diets for Peterbilt to try that won’t cost $180 a month and we may have some possibilities. The ass-juicing has ceased for the moment. There are even talks of buying a new area rug for the living room. Things are looking up.
By the way, we found out what that red ball was.
My husband took Peterbilt to a friends house sometime in November. His friend has a Cavalier King Charles dog and Peter did his usual “raid of the other dog’s toys”. Peter ate the top off of a red, little dog Kong and that top tier had been simmering around in Pete’s tummy for upwards of 2 months. No signs of anything lodged in his digestive track from Pete. No vomiting, no lethargy. This dog never ceases to amaze us. And this is why mommy drinks.