[Dailydrool] Our Elsinore has a bare bottom, but all four legs and a nifty incision

[Elizabeth Lindsey]

I picked our Elsinore up about noon today. She looked relieved to see me and to be allowed to leave. They told me she'd had a good night and peed to their satisfaction twenty-four hours after the surgery, but didn't want the breakfast I'd packed for her or had a poop. The kennel director didn't seem too concerned about that, and he thought my plan to stop by McDonalds on the way home for an appetite kick-start was a good one. 

Poor Elsinore. That cone. 

Oh, dear. 

I brought our late Jane Basset's old cone with me because the receptionist warned me yesterday that the surgeon doesn't like the inflatable ones that make dogs look like Titanic survivors. I gave Jane's cone to the kennel director to put on her. He said she'd been wearing one in the kennel since this morning when she was alert enough to want to start "showing an interest in her stitches." Of course she'd want to check them out. Who doesn't want to investigate the work on one's surgeon? We use our eyeballs to do it, hounds use their noses. I don't see the problem. Let her check it out once or twice and then don't worry about it unless she looks as if she's going to disturb the surgeon's handiwork.

But I let the kennel director switch cones, and Elsinore came out in Jane's looking uncertain and terribly uncoordinated. It was like watching a pre-teen trying to master the art of walking in high heels for the first time. Elsinore just wasn't getting the knack of it. I think these cones are especially hard on long, low dogs who "see" the world by putting their noses to the ground. It was even worse when we got outside and the cone turned into a bulldozer bucket. She suffered the cone until we got to the McDonald's parking lot, where I switched it for the life preserver. What the surgeon doesn't know won't hurt him. 

Elsinore was very happy to eat the hamburger I bought her, and I was happy for her to have some food in her stomach to buffer the Rimadyl, Cephalexin, and Tramadol she's now taking. After her meal, she settled down in the car and was looking miserable by the time we finally got home half an hour later. When she got into the house, she collapsed onto the first dog bed she came across, and I went to find the Tramadol while young Charlie checked her out. 

He discovered Elsinore stinks like a vet's office and doesn't have as much fur as she used to. Her left back end is bare from her ankle, up her leg, to the base of her tail, and halfway across the lower half of her back. She has an impressive seven-inch incision. And no more lump. It's been sent off for study, and we should hear the results on Friday. I think the feel of the air on her bare is disconcerting to Elsinore, but thank goodness, I've told her, it's August. The memory of our Jane's nude back after ruptured disk surgery in early January in the Chicago area is still vivid. The day after we brought her home we had a blizzard. Jane refused to break house training and just pee on plastic in the garage out of the wind. If ever there was a good time to break house training, that was it. 

Getting the Tramadol down her wasn't so bad. I bought some cream cheese, which she never gets to have, yesterday, and she didn't fight me when I put the cream cheese-Tramadol ball down the back of her throat. I coaxed her onto her therapeutic foam bed, and then we all took a two-hour nap. She was still sleeping when Ken got home early. I joined him out on the back deck, leaving her to her sleep. But about ten minutes later, she came out through the doggie door to join us, thus answering my question about whether she'd be able to maneuver her life preserver through both the door and the ninety-degree turn inside the dog house entrance that covers it. 

She didn't ask for her afternoon snack, but I gave it to her about half an hour ago and she ate it all. Now she's back to dozing on the dog bed in our bedroom. It looks as if she's figured out a way to rest her chin on the bottom edge of the life preserver. So far, she hasn't show any sign of wanting to mess with her stitches. I hope it stays that way.

I want to thank everyone again for all the kind notes and good wishes for our little girl. I want to respond individually, but it's going to take a few days. In the meantime, please know that Ken and I appreciate them tremendously. 

Elizabeth