Scratchy's diary: A snapped tendon, a broken leg and short rations for breakfast
April 9th 2010 07:40
We have had better days. It started poorly when the Big Boss woke with a headache and a dry mouth. He drank too much red wine last night while entertaining vegetarian visitors. He doesn't mind cooking vegetarian, and last night's roast pumpkin and feta quiche won rave reviews, but the following morning he always feels meat deprived.
I don't know if it was the hangover, the dry mouth or the flesh famine which caused him to spread less than the usual amount of margarine on my regular morning slice of toast, but I wish he wouldn't take things out on me.
The Big Boss then took his foggy head to work, and Little Boss took us to the park. That's when things took a turn for the worse. Literally.
We had done the sniff (five cats had visited the park overnight and two dogs and been there shortly before us this morning) and it was time to run. Short Black took off and I turned to sprint after her. Bad move. Something went snap.
The only thing to do in a situation like that is scream, and I did so with with every fibre and unsnapped tendon available to me. It scared the daylights out of Short Black, who tried, in a display of deep caring and concern, to attack me. Little Boss quickly stopped that.
The pain, I worked out, came from trying to put my right rear leg on the ground. So, thinking my way through the problem, I fell over. Immediately, I felt much more comfortable.
Little Boss wasn't feeling comfortable, however. "I need help," she muttered, and I could sympathise. I am, I admit, no longer at my racing weight. Big Boss has picked me up once or twice when I've been reluctant to get in the car, but his eyes bulge dangerously and he goes a bright shade of puce when he does it. It's worth refusing to get in the car occasionally just to see it. But Little Boss wasn't about to try lifting me. Even if we had the car.
Which we didn't. And we were more than a kilometre from home.
Little Boss needed help, and looking around, she spotted a guy sitting on the balcony of his second-floor flat overlooking the park. Watching us. Little Boss looked at him. He looked back. Nup. Not the helpful type, that one.
So I stood up. It was brave, I know, but what else could I do? I didn't know, at that stage, what was wrong, but I knew very well that I couldn't put any weight on my back right leg. So I set off for home doing a three-legged shuffle. Slowly. Very slowly. Very, very slowly.
At this rate, although dinner was more than 10 hours away, we weren't going to make it home in time.
Two women came to the rescue, one passing by and one in her front yard. They both looked concerned and started talking with Little Boss about the problem. It was suggested that I wait in the front yard while Little Boss went to get the car. Good idea, I thought, and happily fell down again.
Back home, Little Boss parked the car and, without getting herself or me out of it, used the Little Phone to ring the vet. She described everything that had happened in detail and then went quiet for a while listening to what was being said on the other end. Then she rang the Big Boss at his work and told him everything. That's when I learned that the vet suspected I had ruptured a tendon.
Little Boss — and she has asked me to insert at this point that she was under the weather too, having such a sore throat and rasping cough that she had seen a Hooman Vet the day before — started the car and drove off.
They made a fuss at the vet, and it was not all due to my good looks. Then they stuck a needle in me and the lights went out. I heard later that they had to anaesthetise me so they could get my hurt leg into the right position to take X-rays. They needed X-rays to confirm the tendon rupture, and give some guidance for the surgery which would be required to repair it. They also wanted to make sure I hadn't done any further damage, like breaking my leg.
The X-ray confirmed the tendon rupture. And a broken leg. "Quite nasty" is how the vet described the break.
Now it's late afternoon and I'm home and I can tell you that I'm busting. They have put what the call a soft cast on me, and I can say with confidence that it's primary purpose is make it impossible to get into a position to pee. Or poop.
I was standing, pondering the solution to this problem, when I fell into the garden and couldn't get out. It's just one humiliation after another. And it's still more than an hour to dinner time.
We have had better days.
| 60 |
| Vote |
Add To: 
subscribe to this blog
Comment by grapecat
Comment by Chris Champion
Vyoos
Zoomies
Bloggercises
The Blog of Lists
Newly Old
Money Whither
Thank you for you kind words. I just had dinner. Let me tell you that that's one event that I wish were more eventful.
Resting comfortably on the living room rug now. Big Boss is watching football, which always helps me go to sleep.
Licks,
Scratchy
Comment by Anonymous
What a terrible accident. Do please forgive Daisy for her faux pas when you started screaming, sudden loud noises can shatter the nerves of a sensitive soul like her and cause totally aberrant behaviour. I am sure that you were feeling quite terrible at the time you wrote your diary (what fortitude to manage the task straight after major surgery) but hope that by now you are feeling a lot better and have managed to work out how to get around the inconveniences of your handicap.
Clyde wants to send you a message but he is so upset to hear how badly his best mate has injured himself that he is a gibbering wreck (that is: he is even less articulate than normal).
I must say your situation brings back memories of Clyde's worst accident when he punctured his one good eye. I am having nightmares remembering how he suffered, and how awfully ill he was after the operation which made the eye hurt even more than the initial injury but in the end (and with the help of one of those horrible collars to prevent him banging into anything) the eye came good again and he seems to have forgotten all about how bad it was. I do hope that you will make a good and speedy recovery too Scratchy. Please remember not to chew your bandages and give your vets a lick from us to say thank you for all their hard work (where would we Greyhounds be without our vets?).
You'd better give your bosses a couple of licks too, our bosses suffer dreadfully when we hurt ourselves, and give one to Daisy too. She really didn't mean to hurt you.
We got back from our holiday in Leigh Creek 2 days ago but we've only just got onto the computer. We always enjoy going up there and this time was quite exciting as there was a huge thunder storm (I really don't like thunder all that much but there seems little point in complaining as the Boss and the Missus refuse to fuss over me if I do) and an amazing rain storm (tell the big boss 91 mm of rain in 8 hours, the Missus says it will mean something to him). Leigh Creek ran with water and all the creeks ran huge bankers, over the bankers, the one just below the town was 2.5 metres deep and 2 to 3 hundred metres wide. The local people say they've never seen floods like it. We were worried we wouldn't get home but the main road was only closed for one day, the road to Arkaroola where one of our favourite 2 year olds and her family went for 2 days is still closed. They've been there a week now.
Lots of licks to you Scratchy and to Daisy, from me and the idiot dog,
Heidi.
Comment by Anonymous
Whad yer go an do a thing like that fer? Yer gave me ther screamin ab dabs thinkin abaht ut.
I'm gettin anather corn, might hev ter loose anuther toe, an er bit off me form ova ut, an yer goes an prangs yer leg, cripes er toe job's er real sweet cop ufter hearin thut.
I'm gunna be off me brain worryin' until I hears yer on ther improve.
Sling us er line when yer can mate.
Clyde.
Comment by Chris Champion
Vyoos
Zoomies
Bloggercises
The Blog of Lists
Newly Old
Money Whither
Thanks so much for your messages. It's been a rugged couple of days since the surgery, which was actually on Tuesday.
"It went well," they told Big Boss on the phone, "but ..."
I was knocked out cold under the anaesthetic at that point, but I still felt him shudder at the "but".
In the end, it wasn't really such a bad but. Full recovery is still possible. Seems the bit of bone which cracked in my leg in fact shattered into a few pieces. This wasn't obvious on the X-ray.
The vet screwed the two largest pieces back in place, but could do nothing with the rest.
Everyone's got their toes crossed (except you Clyde, sorry) that this is enough to give the leg stability. If not, some process called fusion awaits. I think the technical term, according to the way the Big Boss tells the story, is "bloody expensive".
I'm hobbling around already. I can get up the step onto the back verandah. I'm planning to be back on a sofa by the weekend.
Licks,
Scratchy
Comment by Anonymous
Did yer make ut onter ther sofa? Yer spoilt yer know, we're not allowed near ther sofas here, lets uv soft rugs just fer us but.
Ther Missus an ther Boss an Heidi us crossin ther toes fer yer, d'yer remember whut I sed abaht gettin yer sculpcha aht an sellin ut? p'raps yer culd do one ter help ef ther big boss has ter pay fer ther fusion.
There's good knews on ther toe front, one uv me GAP friends went an told ther Missus abaht boots fer dogs an so we went shoppin at Petstock (I likes ut in there they allus says nice thigs abaht GAP dogs) an ther Missus tries ther boots on me. I likes ther hikin boots but ther only ones thut fits me long toes (whuts left uv them) is size 8 an they have great wide tops fer big fat ankles not fer skinny ones like mine. So we tries on ther runnin shoes, good oh fer runnin, an size 8 have nice small tops fer me. Only trouble is thut they've run aht uv size 8 in black an there's only pink ones left. Ther Missus is gulpin a bit ut ther price tag, she says $65.00 us a bit steep but, she ses she'll arst ef they can get em in black. So we goes ter ther counter an they've gut lots uv pink runnin shoes sayin all pink shoes now $20.00 an ther Missus says "yer knows whut Clyde? Pink looks real Good-oh on you." I arsts yer Scratchy! Whut sort of er flamin Galah us an occer bloke like me gunna look in pink boots? I were ready ter stick em in ther post fer Daisy.
But yer know, we goes up ter Obedience terdie an ther Missus puts me pink boots on me plurry front feet. She'd cut aht an fitted sheepskin inner soles fer them an they felt real bonza. We did agility an I could keep up with Heidi an do ther table an ther seasaw an ther jumps better'n her an when we got home I jumped aht uv ther ute without any help an ran around ther yard with Heidi an Nikko an ut were absa-bluddy-lutely crash hot!
Gorblimey! Me pink clod hoppers us ther bees knees an I'm gunna wear em till ther cows cum home.
I'm gunna go see Chris ther vet whut takes off me toes on Wensdie, I'm gunna tell him boots us ther goan he c'n leave me bodgie toes alone. Hope he lisens, I hat hawvin me feet in bandages all'a time. Still ut's nuthin ter bein in plaster like you. Keep yer pecker up mate.
Ooroo f'nah,
Clyde.
Comment by Chris Champion
Vyoos
Zoomies
Bloggercises
The Blog of Lists
Newly Old
Money Whither
Wotcha mean you're not allowed on the sofas? Ma-a-ate, isn't there legislation against that? Isn't that covered by The Intergalactic Statutes Determining the Fair and Correct Treatment of Higher Sentient Beings, Namely Greyhounds and Dog Food Manufacturers?
If it's not, it should be.
Anyway, please don't say that too loudly around my Bosses. They used to have two quite nice sofas and now they're cactus. I don't want them to get ideas when they decide to get replacements.
S
Comment by ruca'smom
Questions about the pee and poop busy. She has yet to go...it's been almost 24 hours. She is in serious pain and screams every time she moves. when I bring her outside, she immediately lies down and refuses to move. Did you encounter similar behavior? Any pointers on what to do to get her to move around? She's only 20 pounds and the cast is almost as big as her. I'm running of options and excuses to get her to try to move...
Comment by Chris Champion
Vyoos
Zoomies
Bloggercises
The Blog of Lists
Newly Old
Money Whither
I had no problem like that. Scratchy could move - slowly and gingerly, maybe, but he could walk outside and pee from the start.
In your position, I'd ring the vet and ask for advice. I don't think the dog should be screaming every time she moves. Perhaps stronger pain killers are needed.
Good luck!