I’m not whining, but I do want to share.
Roscoe’s injury has hit me hard. Not as hard as it has hit him, obviously, since he’s the one who had a nine-inch stick in his body cavity for a week and almost died, not me. But in an emotional way, hard.
I’m at the vet now, sitting on the bed that he’s become attached to here, typing this. He has his upper body curled against my leg, and is sleeping peacefully, breathing normally for the first time that I’ve seen since the injury. He was dreaming a bit, his paws twitching like dogs do when they’re chasing something in their sleep, and he just gave a big contented sigh. Nothing is waking him – not my sneezes, not the barking dogs in the treatment room, or the voices of the staff. He’s peaceful. I cuddled him and sang him all the lullabies I used to sing to Kelsea when she was a baby.
He still has the pump in his side. They upped his antibiotic dosage, and so the incision sites are cooler, and he is much more alert. The shaved spot is the size of many other dogs, so he may have to wear a t-shirt when he gets home, which I always think looks adorable on dogs. But he’s still not eating and not drinking. He did covertly eat the food I brought yesterday sometime in the middle of the night, so I brought some more for him today. They gave him two liters of electrolyte IV solution earlier to help him keep hydrated and his body just soaked it up like a sponge.
I don’t even want to imagine what the bill will be. I don’t care. I can’t really afford it anyway. But you do what you’ve got to do. The vet – Arapahoe Animal Hospital in Boulder – has been fabulous. All the doctors and all the techs here know Roscoe now and love him. They want him to live here with them and be their vet pet. (Sorry guys, we got him first.) It reminds me of when Kelsea was first born. That first night, they took her away and told me they’d bring her back for me to nurse her. I woke up seven hours later with no baby and no one answering the bell. I wondered if something had happened and I was the last person alive. So I hobbled out to the nurse’s station, and said, “Um, excuse me, do you know where my daughter is?” “Oh, Kelsea?” they said, “She was so sweet that we just decided to keep her here with us at the nurse’s station.” Sweetness must run in the family.
So, Roscoe is getting better and is going to be okay. And that’s all the news that really matters.
But now we come to me. Yes, wussy me. I am so exhausted energetically from caring from him from a distance, emotionally from worrying about him, and physically from not sleeping well at my ex-husband’s house while I care for the other animals that I can hardly tell which way is up. Sitting with my puppy while he sleeps, along with this wiped out feeling, is totally taking me back to taking care of my mom the week before she died. I was up all the time, sleeping in strange places, showering when I had a second, snarfing food when I could, sitting with her all the time because I could. (I haven’t been able to do that with Roscoe all the time.) This zombie-like functional state is so familiar in my bones from that time with my Mother that it’s giving me flashbacks to a most tenderly painful episode in my life – her death. I never thought I would feel that way again. I couldn’t have told you exactly what it felt like until now, when I’m experiencing it again. And now it is flooding back in a strange, disjointed, poignant way.
I will deal with my own feelings, and it will be fine. I will be fine, just like Roscoe will be fine.
But it is strange to wander in this strange land again.
22 comments
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February 19, 2012 at 5:50 pm
Cin
~hugs~ lots of love and good thoughts your way. ❤ if you need to chat let me know and I'll drop you my email. ~hugs~
February 19, 2012 at 6:41 pm
Seasweetie
Thanks, Cin. I was just thinking this morning that I’d like to chat with you sometime 🙂
February 19, 2012 at 6:12 pm
daydreamingactress
i hope roscoe is okay! i have two dogs back home who i share custody of with my ex- only home is 6000 km away and my parent’s are supplementing my portion of the TLC while i’m in school. i can’t imagine if anything happened to either of them while i’m away- i’m happy though that you’re able to be there for him in this time though!
February 19, 2012 at 6:43 pm
Seasweetie
Thank you, daydreamingactress. Let’s hope your acting dreams become reality soon. I can’t imagine being so far away from my animals (and my daughter) but I did consider it for a while last year, when contemplating a move to tropical climates. I’m glad now that I didn’t do it. That will wait a while. I need and want to be here now.
February 19, 2012 at 6:33 pm
mypixelizedview
Nothing but love for you and Roscoe. My puppy just got diagnosed with Hip Dysplasia and will have to have both her hips replaced. We can’t afford it either, but she needs it, so we’ll do it.
I’m glad that Roscoe will be ok, and the time you are spending there now will mean the world to him.
February 19, 2012 at 6:44 pm
Seasweetie
Thanks, David. We’ll do the same things for our dogs as we will for our kids, won’t we? I have Champ (the other dog – part Shepard and no small potatoes) sitting in my lap now. 🙂 Hoping Roscoe can home with me tomorrow.
February 19, 2012 at 7:13 pm
thesinglecell
Love and bonds are powerful regardless of species. Roscoe knows you’re with him and you love him, and let’s face it – dogs are the best at letting us know they love us. This cycle is what love is and what love teaches us. I’m sorry for the ways that it aches, but I’m glad you’ve had that love, and that Roscoe will get better and go home someday soon!
February 19, 2012 at 7:28 pm
Seasweetie
Thank you, cell. I am hopeful for tomorrow. And I’m going to sleep in Kelsea’s bed tonight instead of the old “marriage bed”. I think I might rest easier there.
February 19, 2012 at 8:04 pm
cantfindmenow
You know, I know. I am saddened for you to relive it yet again. I do the same periodically. The wound is still fresh somehow and I see that it is also, for you. It sounds like Roscoe is in capable hands so, try and relax in the comfort of knowing that he is healing and, so are you. I keep telling myself that it’s a “time” thing. “time heals all wounds” right? Love you
February 19, 2012 at 8:38 pm
Seasweetie
Thank you, cantfindmenow. Time seems so … unpredictable somehow. I miss you.
February 19, 2012 at 8:45 pm
slpmartin
Oh..so sorry to hear about Roscoe…hope all will go well there.
February 19, 2012 at 8:46 pm
Seasweetie
Thanks, slp. He is improving.
February 20, 2012 at 4:58 am
TBM
Thinking of both of you. It is a difficult time for you both.
February 20, 2012 at 10:27 am
marjulo
What a sweet dog! Glad he is improving.
February 20, 2012 at 11:08 am
Seasweetie
Thanks, marjulo!!
February 20, 2012 at 12:00 pm
suzicate
So glad Roscoe is going to be ok.
February 23, 2012 at 11:19 am
nakedcarlyart
My heart goes out to you, I know how it goes with injury and pets. Mine are my babies. Poor boy, he is blessed to have a mama who loves him.
February 23, 2012 at 11:38 am
Seasweetie
Thank you, Carly. He is improving, though limping again. Probably back to the vet to check it out.
February 23, 2012 at 1:58 pm
nakedcarlyart
Well, Take care of yourself and him and stay positive. All you can do is hope for the best.
February 23, 2012 at 3:08 pm
Seasweetie
You are so right!
February 26, 2012 at 4:07 pm
....RaeDi
I hope Roscoe is doing better! Your words touched my soul… I know the path that you are walking and have walked… My Mom just passed away sixteen days ago, know that you and Roscoe are in my prayers. Our loved ones whether two legged or four legged mean a great deal to each of us.
February 27, 2012 at 1:33 pm
Seasweetie
Thank you, RaeDi. He is doing better – hope the stitches will come out this week. And he didn’t have to wear the cone of shame. I hope you are doing okay. It’s a tough time.