Rosie’s week started off as normal as she would expect.
She spent loads of time outdoors,
ran around with the kids
and basically enjoyed life.
Little did she know
what was in store for her later in the week!
Tuesday, while the kids and I were at the Crayola Experience,
Rosie was at the vet getting spayed.
When I picked her up later that afternoon,
I was not prepared for all the restrictions she would have.
First of all,
I was told she could not lick the incision area at all.
Then they told me she could not
run, or jump or go down stairs
for TWO weeks.
She is a puppy.
How on earth am I going to control her from the running and jumping?
Now, I know spaying is a major operation for dogs.
It is basically a hysterectomy.
But for some reason
I never gave it much though beforehand.
Of course my brain is a little fried
with the kids home all day.
I have been going back and forth
between enjoying all the quality time with them
and trying to cherish every precious moment…
to counting down the days till camp starts!
I also knew that we were planning a trip to the beach
within the next week.
Luckily, we don’t have to commit to the exact days in advance
since the house belongs to the inlaws…
and luckily Rosie would be coming with us this time
instead of staying at the kennel…
for Rosie to go outside to pee,
she has to go up and down a flight of stairs!
The vet told me I should plan on carrying her
up and down the stairs.
Rosie is 54 pounds now.
Be prepared to see some photos of my impressive arm muscles
in the next few weeks!
I took her home on Tuesday wearing a soft fabric donut.
It was silly looking but it was soft and didn’t limit her vision
like those rediculous plastic cones you see dogs wear.
After being home an hour or so,
she threw up.
On the family room rug.
I called the vet and she said to feed her a little rice.
If she doesn’t keep it down, then call back.
She threw that up a half hour later.
Back to the vet we went for some anti-nausea medicine
and some fluids to keep her hydrated.
But while we were there,
the vet noticed Rosie was able to lick herself with the soft donut on.
So off went the tolerable one,
and on went that rediculous plastic cone!
The poor baby looked so pathetic.
I just wanted to cry.
She bumped into things
and looked up at my with those sad eyes.
But at least she didn’t get sick anymore
and actually figured out how to sleep with the cone.
What a good sport.
So, needless to say,
I slept downstairs on the couch
and I didn’t put her in her crate.
Actually, I don’t think the cone would fit anyway!
She has been on the mend ever since…
and she is adjusting quite well to her “new look”.
And is already back to her usual antics
of stealing the boys’ sports socks.
She is still my happy little puppy!
It should be pretty interesting
if we end up going to the beach.
I am sure I will be spending most of my time at the house with her
while the boys play around on the beach with Daddy.
Have you had any experiences getting a pet fixed?