April 4, 2011
Kokomo and Laramie
Koko (a yellow Lab mix, now 8 years old) asked me to scratch his ears, and his twin Laramie (a yellow Chihuahua mix, also 8 years old) took advantage of my position to leap into my lap.
Since then, Laramie has had a sports injury. Excited to see a squirrel, she gave chase, forgetting in her zeal that she was on a leash. (She's always on a leash.) When she reached the end point, she got yanked backwards and turned a flip. It looked cool enough to put on youtube, but she's hobbling off and on since then. A visit to the vet today revealed she knocked her kneecap out of place, and it keeps moving from in-place to our-of-place, depending on how she moves. They gave me anti-inflammatories (Ahem. "Gave" is $77 short of accurate); instructions to keep her penned up for a week or two so she can't jump down from the couch or step down from a curb to the street or leap over a puddle, each of which actions has set her hobbling after seeming to be improved; and a prescription for pain meds.
The clerk at Walgreen's asked for my social security number. Why? Because the pain medication Laramie's taking is a controlled substance. To satisfy your curiosity, Laramie takes one-fourth of a 2 mg tablet every twelve hours.
"Is it going to make her sleepy?" I asked.
"Good, because this isn't a dog who knows how to be still."
If she were a comedian, she'd be Robin Williams in "Good Morning, Viet Nam."
The vet explained that if we can't keep her contained and she damages the leg further, she can always have the kneecap replaced by an orthopedic veterinary surgeon. Goodie, goodie. I've been looking for things at which I can throw exorbitant sums of money.
Speaking of that photograph, I'm not really as pale as I appear; it's the lighting. My hair, however, really does look that ghastly. Can't tell you what's happened. Either the last person who trimmed it didn't pay attention the day they taught curls in beauty school or the radiation last year took a toll. It's dull and sticks out straight when I get up in the morning and is, in general, almost as annoying as a dog on a controlled substance. Except the dog sleeps, and lately my hair has been staying awake all night tying itself in knots
And now day is done, and the good dogs and I are headed down the hall. I'll be carrying Laramie, because she's too stoned to walk.