Hey, remember when my dog slid down the stairs and dislocated his hip? And we spent around a grand total to have it put back? And then it came right back out and he had to have surgery?
Okay, it didn’t come RIGHT back out. During a visit to get his bandage re-wrapped, someone finally thought to tell me that his hip might come back out. I believe my exact internal monologue was, “You have got to be fucking shitting me.” If I had known that right off the bat, I would’ve just opted for surgery, which cost more but there wasn’t any question on if it would work, and the recovery time would’ve been shorter than the bandage wearing time. Anyway, when they took the bandage off they told me to continue carrying him around and keeping him isolated when he’s alone for two weeks, and if it doesn’t come out in that time frame, it’s probably fine.
We made it one week, five days. Now i’m sure you’re like, “You irresponsible ho, what did you let him do?” Chester jumped back onto his hind legs, tried to turn, and that’s all it took. And this is after he took it upon himself to leap onto a few couches the second our backs were turned. So the answer is yes, I am a horrible mother.
Thanks to Care Credit we were able to afford the surgery, but his doctor ended up doing an emergency c-section and a few other emergencies that day, which was a Friday, so we had to take him home for the weekend and try to keep him doped up. Chester lost about six pounds during this whole thing, and it was mostly because every time he had to go to the vet, he would be pissed off and refuse to eat/he was in too much pain to care. He wouldn’t eat at all that night and I had to literally pry his jaw open just to get him to take his regular meds and his pain pills. Chester would swallow the kitchen sink if I let him, so him not wanting to eat made me really sad (that and the fact that he would yelp in extreme pain whenever he had to be moved).
After his surgery, he was only out of it for a day or two before he started to perk back up, eating normally, and all that jazz. We had to do physical therapy on him, playing with his joints to keep them moving since he had barely started to put his foot down before he hurt himself again, so he had been walking on three legs for over a month at this point. We also had to try and put a heating pad on him. All of that was very fun and just as well received as you might think.
During the surgery, the doctor found that the tendon that connects the leg bone into the hip socket was completely snapped, and he had a bunch of turn butt muscles. That means that it had no chance of staying in, and he was in way more pain than we thought and that he let on. Chester is a trooper and despite the jaw prying and grumping about the therapies, he was so good through all of this. I love my dog.
Chester a few days after surgery:
Grudgingly (look at that face) accepting the heating pad:
And this is how I knew he was better. He won’t jump on the bed (and he also won’t sleep with us at night anymore, boo), but after a week he started wanting to nap on it so I pick him up and put him on it sometimes (he can get down fine). Chester’s favorite toy is the bed. He likes to burrow under the covers and thrash around, and we ask where Chester is and when he pops back out he’s like “Dude, here I am!” One day he seemed to realize that his hip was okay and he could once again roll over on his back and kick back and forth like an overturned turtle or something:
And now he is mostly back to normal. He sometimes runs on three legs still because it’s easier, and he has a wicked 18 o’clock shadow where his fur is growing back. But he doesn’t have to sleep in a pen anymore and since he’s not doped up and asleep all the time his personality, of which he has a lot, is back in full effect.
under: animals, life, pictures