Donovan got altered yesterday. Our Contract with the Breeder stated that he would be neutered by 6 months of age. We got permission from her to wait until 7 months, per our Vet's request, so he'd develop more of his masculine traits before losing his masculinity. We later discovered one of his testicles had never descended and was imbedded in his thigh. The Vet explained that he would HAVE to be neutered, even if it hadn't been in the Contract, but the surgery would be much more extensive and require stitches and limitations of activity for 5 to 10 days afterward.
The day was at hand. We took him to the Clinic in the morning and stayed with him until after he had his pre-op sedative and was getting very drowsy. Then we kissed him, said goodbye, and let them take him to the back. Deanna cried. I gulped hard.
In the afternoon, I was missing him terribly and got to thinking about this keeping him overnight business. Everybody goes home at the Vet's at 5:30-ish, so who was going to be there to monitor my baby. If something happened to him, no one would even know until the next morning. I began to feel panic rising in me.
I called the Vet's office and asked for the Office Manager who's been with this doctor for about 20 years and is a very compassionate young woman. I explained that I realized I was hysterical but that in my altered mind, I couldn't quite figure out why he needed to be there alone overnight. She laughed and said that he didn't need monitoring - that was why they operated in the morning, giving him all afternoon to be monitored by the doctor - he just needed lots of good rest. She put me on hold and discussed it with the doctor. Within a half an hour, we were back at the Vet's, signing a release of liability so we could bring our baby home for the night.
Deanna was going to her Aunt's to spend the night but chose to have her Aunt wait, if necessary, so she could go with us and see the puppy before she left. He was pretty pitiful - very groggy, although excited to see us, and droopy-eyed, with big stitches and betadine on his underside. We promised the doctor to kennel him for the remainder of the evening and night. So much for my promise.
After listening to him crying and whining in the kennel for 3 hours and consoling Dane, who was crying because he couldn't stand listening to the puppy cry, I asked Don to tend to the children and I put Donovan on my lap in the Den. He curled up and fell fast asleep, and there he stayed for 3 hours. At bedtime, I gently laid him next to my bed, where he sleeps, then went down the hall to check on the children (my bedtime routine). I turned around to find him following slowly behind me. He stood outside the boy's room as I checked on them and straightened their covers. Then he padded along behind me to my bathroom and laid on the bathmat while I changed into jammies.
A little insecure still, he wanted to be on the bed with me. I carefully tucked him between my body and Don's, where he contentedly lay for a couple of hours. Then he got restless, so I put him back on the floor where he slept soundly until around 7:00, when I woke. I put him up on the bed with me and we snuggled a while, then each of the boys had some snuggle time with him. By the time we were up and about, he was stepping high and wagging his tail, obviously feeling better. All day today, Dane has talked gently to him and discussed his surgery with him. Deanna made it home from her Aunt's and, first thing, asked how the baby was doing. She proceeded to tuck him in her arms and talk baby-talk to him. At one point, I asked her why she was talking like that to him and she answered simply, "Because he's a baby."
I am thoroughly convinced that Daelyn has been replaced as the baby of the family. There's a line in the movie, "The Little Mermaid" where Ariel kids Flounder by telling him "You're such a guppy!" Everytime I look at Donovan dragging himself pitifully around, whimpering for someone to hand him his toy, or hear the children cooing gently at him, I think about this line. He may be a dog, but he's sure a guppy.
He's not allowed to climb stairs yet, so I have to carry him out into the yard to do his business. Neither Dane nor Daelyn can handle him without the chance of dropping him, so I attach his leash and carry him down the stairs. I leave him with one of the boys holding the leash, then return in a few minutes to carry him up the stairs. He doesn't even attempt them. He's perfectly happy with Mommy toting him about.
We've all been a little altered by this experience. Daelyn's position in the family has been altered, my good sense has been altered, Don's familiar spot in the bed has been altered, Dane's ability to take the puppy for walks and play with his best friend has been altered, Deanna's favorite doll has been altered, and Donovan, poor Donovan, has had his parts altered.
All in a day's work - with a little pain medicine to help the process.
No comments:
Post a Comment