Posts
Lick-lick-lick-lick-lick-lick .... pause.... lick-lick-lick-lick-lick-lick
Of course it would happen over the weekend that Rosco got a foxtail in his hind paw. I first took note when I saw him limping a bit. I checked between his spongies for a burr and between his toes for the evil sliver, but did not see a thing. Hmmmm. Maybe he's getting arthritic ... or worse....
Lick-lick-lick-lick-lick-lick .... pause.... lick-lick-lick-lick-lick-lick
By morning it was clear it had to be a foxtail, but I still could not find anything, and it was not until Rosco had licked the hair off the swelling boil that I saw the entry point. I tried pressing it out, but all that accomplished was getting Rosco not to cooperate.
Rosco has had few foxtails in his life. In fact, this was only the second. But god knows Fips has had enough of them that, if nothing else, I've learned not to get completely hysterical... at least so long as they are not in the ear or nose or eye....
Rosco was in discomfort but not in pain. In fact, as the boil grew, his walking became more normal and he even ran. So keeping the occasional eye on things, and after giving Sally the Vet a heads up, I decided to wait until Tuesday.
Tuesday morning we drove over to Sally's winery-cum-vet-clinic where she checked both dogs' ears and Rosco's fox tail. As her assistant and I held a quivering and whimpering muscle pup she tried to fish out the foxtail....but without success. Darn.
As an alternative to her $300.00 fee, Sally suggested putting Rosco on anti-biotics and waiting to see if the foxtail worked its way out. "Fifty percent of the time, I don't find them anyway," she said, adding that if it appeared to be working its way up the leg we could then re-consider surgery.
I have never heard that foxtails "work" their way out. In fact, they work their way in. But if the swelling gets big, tender and sufficiently full of puss, it may be possible to pop them out, or fish them out more easily. So puss and pop it was.
By this afteroon, the swelling was getting bigger, but the antibiotics Sally prescribed were sealing the entry point. Sigh. As Rosco's paw swelled, I could see my wallet flattening.
It was too hot to drive over to Pope Valley, and as Middletown Vet quoted me $220, that's where we went. The advantage to Middletown Vet is that it is just a hop, skip and a jump a way. Sometimes their quotes are eminently reasonable and other times they are off the charts. Today they were under-market. Certainly compared to one Santa Rosa outfit called "Affordable Vet Care" that quoted $300.00-$500.00.
Thinking it was time for a walk about, Rosco ran to the Jeep, placed his paws on the door frame and waited to be lifted up. Heave ho. Fips next. Two minutes later and Rosco had a thermometer up his butt and a stethoscope on his chest. That done, he made for the door, but was tugged away to the inside place
Poor doggies. They know enough to know that uncertain and painful things can happen, and that they cannot prevent this fate. For the most part there is nothing we can really say to balance out their fear and helplessness. With Fips I do get the sense that reassurance registers in some way; but Rosco is much more immediate and focused. Counterbalancing opposites is not in his spectrum.
At least it would be quick. Forty five minutes later I picked up a groggy Rosco with a big red bandage on his foot, plus the mother of all foxtails which had been buried god only knows where. Rosco limp-ran to the truck and, once home back inside where he konked out for the rest of the evening.
As always, Fips understands what's going on. "A phoochy has happened to Rosco." And as the senior pup, it's Fips beholden doggie duty to watch out for little brother.
.
As an alternative to her $300.00 fee, Sally suggested putting Rosco on anti-biotics and waiting to see if the foxtail worked its way out. "Fifty percent of the time, I don't find them anyway," she said, adding that if it appeared to be working its way up the leg we could then re-consider surgery.
I have never heard that foxtails "work" their way out. In fact, they work their way in. But if the swelling gets big, tender and sufficiently full of puss, it may be possible to pop them out, or fish them out more easily. So puss and pop it was.
By this afteroon, the swelling was getting bigger, but the antibiotics Sally prescribed were sealing the entry point. Sigh. As Rosco's paw swelled, I could see my wallet flattening.
It was too hot to drive over to Pope Valley, and as Middletown Vet quoted me $220, that's where we went. The advantage to Middletown Vet is that it is just a hop, skip and a jump a way. Sometimes their quotes are eminently reasonable and other times they are off the charts. Today they were under-market. Certainly compared to one Santa Rosa outfit called "Affordable Vet Care" that quoted $300.00-$500.00.
Thinking it was time for a walk about, Rosco ran to the Jeep, placed his paws on the door frame and waited to be lifted up. Heave ho. Fips next. Two minutes later and Rosco had a thermometer up his butt and a stethoscope on his chest. That done, he made for the door, but was tugged away to the inside place
Poor doggies. They know enough to know that uncertain and painful things can happen, and that they cannot prevent this fate. For the most part there is nothing we can really say to balance out their fear and helplessness. With Fips I do get the sense that reassurance registers in some way; but Rosco is much more immediate and focused. Counterbalancing opposites is not in his spectrum.
At least it would be quick. Forty five minutes later I picked up a groggy Rosco with a big red bandage on his foot, plus the mother of all foxtails which had been buried god only knows where. Rosco limp-ran to the truck and, once home back inside where he konked out for the rest of the evening.
As always, Fips understands what's going on. "A phoochy has happened to Rosco." And as the senior pup, it's Fips beholden doggie duty to watch out for little brother.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment