Happy Howl-a-ween!

I'm a dog.  Today Alicia and I got dressed up in costumes to celebrate Halloween.  She went as Waldo, and I went as Waldo's dog, Woof.

I am so excited about this costume.

After our photo shoot (most of which I spent licking her face and making sudden movements so that the picture came out blurry), we went to the vet for our weekly check-up.  Alicia has been a bad girl and has not been posting weekly updates.  So let's just quickly run through my progress with a couple of photos...

10/10. First Day Home.  Bandaged and coned.

10/12. Bandages come off.  Bruised and swollen.

10/13.  "Fort Molly" established to prevent climbing of any sort.
All stairways (not pictured) also block off.

10/17. Still swollen.  Bruising going down.

10/24(ish). Bruising and swelling have gone down.
This picture is upside down and refuses to turn the right way. Sorry.

Alicia's camera seems to have eaten the photos from the day I got my stitches out.  I do not know why. I don't like.  Photos on the iPhone mysteriously skip to this past weekend (aka Frankenstorm).  I don't like Frankenstorm.  Thunder and lightning are fine, but strong winds and heavy rain? I don't like.

Anyway...

10/31.  Dr. approves Molly for chair snuggling.

Check out my scar now!

10/31.  Healing very nicely.  Swelling and bruising gone.
Putting lots of weight and walking normal.

The doc says that I am making terrific progress and that I'm a good girl.  The only bad news out of today's appointment is that I developed a double ear infection.  We're not sure how or why, but it happened, so now Alicia has to clean my ears daily and put ointment in them.  I don't like.  She also won't let me scratch my ears.  I really don't like.  But at least I get to sleep in my chair again!

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jig

I'm a dog.  After Matt and Alicia abandoned me at the Columbia Pike Animal Hospital on Tuesday, Dr. Hall cut open my leg and wired it back together with Kevlar.  He sewed me back up, gave me a big dose of narcotics and antibiotics and locked me in a crate overnight to sleep it off.  I did NOT like.  Thankfully, the next day, Matt and Alicia came back for me!

When they came to get me I was all shakes and wiggles.  I could hardly keep myself still.  They usually like that, but this time they kept saying things like "Good girl. Just relax. Okay...Good girl...Lay down." On the plus side, since they were under strict orders to not let me lick or fuss with my bandages, Alicia let me lick her face instead!  She never lets me do that.  On the minus side, when I didn't listen, they put on the "cone of shame."

Trying to get to my bandages.

Decked out in my Ecollar for the ride home.

Dr. Hall said that I bled a lot during surgery, because I'm such a muscular dog.  When Matt told him I'd lost a lot of my muscle due to the injury, the doc was impressed.  I had torn my cruciate ligament all the way through and also my meniscus.  There was no way I should have been able to walk as well as I had been, but mind over matter, right?  Those squirrels needed to be chased and those dogs needed to be played with.  I had to fulfill my end of the bargain.

When I got out of the car at home, the first thing I did was pee.  I peed for a whole minute.  Seriously.  I was saving it up.  I am a well-trained puppy, and I know better than to go to the bathroom inside, so I held it from Tuesday morning at 8am until Wednesday night at 8pm. 36 hours.  Thank goodness I'm on antibiotics, or that could've caused a urinary infection.

Moving around with the bandages was challenging.  I walked kind of like a peg-leg pirate.  I was okay with that, though.  What I didn't like was that I had to wear the "cone of shame."  It is really hard to get comfortable with a peg leg and a cone of shame.  Even heavily medicated, I just couldn't sleep.  Thankfully, Matt slept on the couch next to my bed, and helped me when I had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

Settled in on my bed.

Asleep and snuggled in a blankie.
I love my new bed! It's a Serta!

Finally! A nap without a cone!

Matt and Alicia have been really wonderful about almost everything.  They keep giving me peanut butter by the spoonful.  They think I don't realize my medication is inside, but I do.  But why swallow medication on its own when you can get it wrapped in peanut butter? And even though they keep guiding my head away from my sutures, they have been letting me lick their faces and carrying me up and down stairs and out to the lawn so I can do my business.

Living the peg-leg life.

This afternoon we went back to see Dr. Hall and I was so excited.  I was sleeping in the car, but jumped up and tried to get into the vet's office as soon as possible when the car turned off.  Dr. Hall took off my bandages and had the vet tech put me down on the ground to see how much weight I'd put on my leg.  I just started walking around like it was no big deal.  All the doc could say was "Now, now that...that's unusual" and then he warned Matt and Alicia that even though my spirits are high and I want to walk, I needed to rest and relax.

Waiting for Dr. Hall, so he can remove my bandages.

So now I'm home and recuperating.  I keep trying to lick my sutures and Alicia keeps stopping me.  I also keep trying to walk around and they keep making me lay down. I. DON'T. LIKE! I'm a puppy!  I want to do what I want to do.  I mean, look at me!  I'm totally healed!

My "good" side.

DO NOT SCROLL DOWN UNLESS YOU ARE OKAY WITH BRUISED AND STITCHED PUPS!


SERIOUSLY, IT LOOKS GROSS!


DESPITE HOW BAD IT LOOKS, I FEEL GREAT!


BUT IT DOES LOOK GROSS!


WARNING: My leg looks awful, but it's just healing.  If you don't like the look of lot of bruises and stitches, just stop reading now and consider this post finished.  But, if you want to see my leg, read on.

Bandages off.  Ecollar removed. Time to sleep.

Bruised and battered, but on the road to recovery.

I'll keep you updated as to how my healing goes!

Going Under the Knife

I'm a dog. Remember how in my last post, I told you about how my leg got better and stopped wearing my brace? Well, then just two weeks ago, I somehow hurt my leg again.  I don't know how I did it, but it happened.  And I haven't really been putting any weight on it since.  So, I've been wearing my brace again, but it's clear that this time the injury is more severe.  That's why I'm headed for CCL surgery on Tuesday morning.  I've already expressed to Matt and Alicia that "I don't like" and that we should just keep using the brace and let it heal on it's own, but they say it's important to do the surgery, so that I can have it repaired, rest it and allow it to heal completely.

They're going to have to put me under anesthesia for the procedure and I'm going to need to stay overnight.  If any dog ever loved going to the vet, it's me.  But I'm still already dreading a night in the animal hospital, and so are Matt and Alicia.  It's going to be a bit of a road to recovery, but I'll keep you updated on my progress.  And I'll make sure Alicia posts more often, as I know there are a lot of people who will want to know what's going on.  In the meantime, keep me in your thoughts and prayers.  And check out how cute I am in this photo!

What You Kneed to Know

I'm a dog.  I love to play. All. The. Time.

But I haven't been doing too much playing lately. Nope.  And it's not because I don't want to play.  It's because Matthew and Alicia don't want me to play.  I keep bringing them toys and asking them to throw Mr. Squeaks and his squeaky family members.  They ignore me.  I try to run and jump around outside.  They pull my leash closer and say "No!" in a stern voice.  They've even stopped taking me to play with my friends and I haven't been to the dog park in weeks.

I don't like!

They say it's because of my limp.  You see, while they were away in China at the end of March, I was staying with Gerri.  At Gerri's I play approximately 23 hours a day, taking small breaks only to go to the bathroom, drink water and occasionally eat a bite or two of kibble.  There is no sleep.  I can't take a chance on missing out on some of the fun the other dogs are having. Anyway, it was while I was at Gerri's that I got hurt.  But it isn't her fault.

My 3-legged paw stand.

You see, it seems that I have a small tear in my cruciate ligament (that's like my doggy ACL).  After over a week of me limping and them hoping that rest would heal me (and it partially did), Matthew took me to the vet. I love going to the vet, so that part was great!  While at the vet, they fawned all over me and showered me with love and affection.  The vet told me that what Alicia calls my "rear passenger side" leg was swollen at the knee and that it was likely due to a tear in my cruciate ligament.  She sent me home with a prescription of Rimadyl (doggy ibuprofen) and recommended rest and a glucosamine supplement.  She also provided information about surgery.

Matthew and Alicia have been trying to do as much as possible to avoid having to go the surgery route.  I love taking my medicine (it tastes like liver!) and after a week of resting and meds my limp was gone!  Then on Saturday, I went crazy on my leash because I wanted to play with a dog.  I couldn't help it.  I'd been so good for a whole week! I had to play.  I re-injured my knee.  Oops.

Then I became really clingy.  And needy.  And Alicia broke down and let me snuggle with her on the couch. I couldn't believe it!

Then, on Sunday, while she was cleaning and organizing the bedroom closet, I took it upon myself to self-soothe by couch snuggling on my own.

Alicia was not a fan.

Anyway, I'm still limping and still acting very needy.  It's wearing Matthew and Alicia out, but I can't help it.  They made an appointment to see a specialist and we're going to look into surgery alternatives - having a man make a custom-fit leg brace that will keep me from further injury and allow me to heal - and otherwise thinking about proceeding with the surgery.  I'm still a puppy, so it's hard to force me to rest.  I don't like it.  I never complain about my knee, but I do limp a lot, and they don't like that.  They also don't like keeping me from having fun and not allowing me to play.

I'll keep you updated with my progress.  Hopefully I'll be back in action soon!

A Few of My LEAST Favorite Things: Car Rides and Crate Training

I'm a dog. I thought I'd outsmarted my humans for good with this whole crating and baby gating business, but it looks like they've called in reinforcements.  I'd heard them talk about going to pick up a new crate from a friend, but I didn't put much stock in it, since I'd cry and they'd let me out anyway.  Things were going just as I'd hoped when they put me in the kitchen and baby gated me in as they went out for a bit.  Then I realized that they'd put the gates a few inches off the ground.  Guess I wouldn't be scaling them.  But you know what they* say, "if you can't go over it, you gotta go under it."  And so I did.

I see myself kind of like the great escape artist, Houdini.  Lock me up and throw away the key.  I'll get out! And then I'll pee on the floor. Serves them right for not taking me out before leaving and then locking me up.  Needless to say, they weren't happy when they got home and Alicia went back out to get the new crate.

Alicia pulled my new crate out of the box, and as she worked to put it together and position it properly, I hid behind the couch.  I don't like metallic sounds and I definitely don't like crates.  I was steering clear of this bad boy.  But then, Alicia put my water - my beloved water! - in the crate. I cautiously went over and drank from my bowl.  No door closings, so I was in the clear.  By the end of the night I'd snacked on hot dogs and kibble and lapped up a bunch of water in the crate, and nobody tried to lock me in.   When it was time for bed they even let me sleep on my bed out in the middle of the living room. I'd outsmarted them again!

Then, while they slept, I pooped and peed on the living room floor. At the time I thought I was sticking it to them.  Alicia's face as she cleaned up my mess this morning, however, showed me that this fight wasn't yet over.  Just as I was settling in for my mid-morning nap, she stirred me, suggesting we go outside.  Before I knew what was happening, she'd walked me to the car, picked me up, and locked me in my car crate. I wasn't sure where she was taking me, but it didn't matter.  I hate car rides and I hate crates.

When we finally got to our destination though, it wasn't so bad.  Turns out we were going to visit the veterinarian at the Alexandria Animal Hospital.  

For whatever reason, this photo WILL NOT show up portrait. Sorry!

The best part about the vet's office is that it is full of other dogs!  While we waited for my appointment I got to play with Teddy, a bulldog whose face is fun to paw at and bite.  Dr. Bartl (my vet) was also very nice. She didn't rough house with me, but she gave me treats and pets and scratches.  She also cleaned my ears and gave me my distemper shot, but that wasn't so bad.  Not as bad as her mechanized scale/table that makes a loud noise as it comes down to the floor for you and then another loud noise and rising motion once you've been coaxed to stand on the platform! I tried to jump off, but Alicia and Dr. Bartl wouldn't let me.  Soon enough, we were done and it was time to go home.  Which meant getting back in the car, in the crate, which I hate!

When we got home, more bad things were in store.  After lunch, Alicia took out the vacuum cleaner.  Now, as you know, I'm a dog. Dogs do not like vacuum cleaners.  At first, when she put my dog bed and string bone in the crate, I thought Alicia was trying to rescue me from the evil vacuum by locking me inside the crate with my favorite possessions.  I was ever so grateful for the protection.  Then she finished cleaning and left me there.  For thirty minutes total!  It was agonizing.  She clearly didn't think so though.  She filmed this video, which I'll be submitting as evidence in my case against the torture of crates (and don't feel like you have to watch the whole thing, it's long and I'm just crying and digging my way out):



Thankfully, after I gave in to my confinement and total despair, she finally let me out and rewarded me with a walk and some frozen green beans (my favorite!).  She put me back in tonight when her and Matthew went out for a few hours.  They'd read that I would cry and then give up and go to sleep.  But I am strong-willed and cried and dug the ENTIRE four hours they were gone.  It was so bad, they got a series of texts from the neighbors who were concerned.  Just as I'd planned, they cut their evening short and came home to rescue me.  This crate doesn't stand a chance.

And those are a few of my LEAST favorite things. 

*I don't know who "they" are.