Abi is home now. I brought her home in the little crate, but of course she wanted out.
I got those two sentences written, sitting on the floor on a pile of quilts with Abi next to me. And I heard a tear. She had torn two of the staples out and blood was gushing.
I called the vet. They said bring her back. My nice neighbor Charlie drove me and Abi in my car back across town. His wife is pretty sickly and doesn’t go out much.
As we went out the door to my car, Charlie Ross went tearing out at a fast clip when the attention was focused elsewhere. Abi was back in the crate, so I ran after him. I finally caught him after several blocks, and brought him back.
Took Abi, bleeding, back to the vet. They had to replace several staples and wrapped her entire leg in thick gauze. They put a cone on her head and put her back in the crate.
We started for home. She was thrashing around inside of the crate.
When I got back home, I opened the door of the crate and she had torn the cone in half. I was at my wit’s end.
I AM at my wit’s end.
The only way I can type this is to hold her between both my legs and try to be ready if she leaps back up again.
She will not be still two seconds. She can’t get comfortable with this all the way up to her belly. I try to find ways to cushion her, but she is not a happy camper. She refuses to sleep.
Meanwhile neighbor Charlie is headed to Petsmart to get a different kind of cone that is supposed to be more like an inner tube. If she tears that one off, back she goes to the vet.
How on earth am I going to keep this on her for two weeks when she is determined to get it off? Every few sentences she attempts to rip at the gauze.
The neighbor’s daughter is sick in Nashville in the hospital, so they’re probably going to have to go there. Short of calling Israel, I will be alone with this. But he has to work.
I’m one-handed while I carry her around everywhere I go.
Still they say it is too dangerous to sedate her.
I’m ready for someone to please sedate me.