Since I believe hope is as essential to the human spirit and psyche as healthy food is to the body, I'm giving myself a pass on believing Maya was going to bounce back without needing surgery on her leg. It's basically healthier to believe things will work out than not to, just as you can survive on a poor diet but not thrive. So, we lean toward hope.
I hoped she wouldn't need the operation she ended up needing a week and a half ago, which basically fused her ankle into one bone at a 140 degree angle. Our regular vet was never very optimistic about it, noting not too long ago that Maya was "crazy," meaning she is excitable and runs around like a maniac, which is true. He felt she would put too much stress on the weak ankle and easily injure it again. The hospital vet had said maybe Maya would be one of the 5 percent with that type of injury not to need surgery. As it was, two months after the operation she was still in pain when the vet applied a little pressure to the ankle and she was favoring it much more so than when it was supported by a hard plastic splint. The recommendation was to stabilize it by fusing it and let her heal and get over it.
I was partly inclined at first to see how she'd do without the operation, but both vets said she would suffer arthritis in the injured ankle and that could be debilitating for her later. Both said it wasn't if, but a question of how soon. That relates to hope. Somehow hoping that the arthritis wouldn't be too severe or develop too quickly wasn't really hope but resignation.
With the surgery, the chance of arthritis in that ankle is zero—since it's no longer an articulated joint—and she'll be able to walk and run pretty much as she did before because most of the movement in a dog's leg is in the knee and hip. I watched for this as a I walked her the week after her bandage was removed before deciding on surgery.
Were I a younger man, I might not have thought so much about the arthritis, and while I don't have that many aches and pains, I'd be a liar if I wasn't aware of stiffness and soreness in some of my own moving parts. And without Maya forcing me out every day or so, I have to admit I've slacked off badly.
Even after her latest surgery she's doing wonderfully. She needed her cone—the collar that is supposed to keep her from gnawing her leg—for only the first day. Her actively is severely restricted—walks to bathroom and back only for the first week and this week no more than five-minute walks. But the last few days she's started to put her foot on the ground again, and yesterday greeted me by putting both front paws up on my shoulders (very uncharacteristic of her even before her operation and not something I've ever tolerated). I don't want to encourage that yet, though the vet said lifting her front paws would be a good way to help her strengthen her weak leg, but not just yet!
So here's to hoping Maya is back out on the trail by the end of summer—and her lazy bones owner by the end of spring (which is only a week away).
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Back on track, or simply, "OFF!"
Meche has decided to reimpose discipline on the Maya, whose convalescence is coming to a close. It's been seven weeks tomorrow since she was hit by a car in front of the house and last week the vets at the hospital removed the splint on her leg. She's still bandaged but it's not as rigid. So she's babying her leg more.
In another week she's supposed to get the bandage off all together. But, thank St. Roch, she'll return to normal, minus one toe. (Nah, I didn't really invoke St. Roch for Maya's recovery, but a Google search turned him up as the patron saint of dogs and those who love them, so ...) Now, I have investigate dog physical therapy for real. She might yet need surgery, but it's a time-will-tell deal.
So, while I'm in D.C. this week meeting with like-minded colleague and trying to convince congress people to do the right thing (i.e. give a shit about the underdog—pun intended), Meche has banished Maya from the furniture again. Out of sympathy for her suffering we couldn't bring ourselves to boot her butt off the sofa. She still responds to "Off!" begrudgingly. We've been reintroducing her basic commands as well—and reviewing her training fundamentals. After all, she's back to prowling the daycare area after hours in search of something to chew up and even dared to scuffle up a hole in the yard after I slaved at filling in her craters and reseeding during her recovery. If she's feeling up to her old mischief she's up to behaving again.
Meanwhile, discovered another dog blog today by someone I met here in D.C.—the reflections of a cute little pooch named Trudy: trudydogblog.wordpress.com
I thought I might be the only person weird enough to blog about his dog. Duh ...
In another week she's supposed to get the bandage off all together. But, thank St. Roch, she'll return to normal, minus one toe. (Nah, I didn't really invoke St. Roch for Maya's recovery, but a Google search turned him up as the patron saint of dogs and those who love them, so ...) Now, I have investigate dog physical therapy for real. She might yet need surgery, but it's a time-will-tell deal.
So, while I'm in D.C. this week meeting with like-minded colleague and trying to convince congress people to do the right thing (i.e. give a shit about the underdog—pun intended), Meche has banished Maya from the furniture again. Out of sympathy for her suffering we couldn't bring ourselves to boot her butt off the sofa. She still responds to "Off!" begrudgingly. We've been reintroducing her basic commands as well—and reviewing her training fundamentals. After all, she's back to prowling the daycare area after hours in search of something to chew up and even dared to scuffle up a hole in the yard after I slaved at filling in her craters and reseeding during her recovery. If she's feeling up to her old mischief she's up to behaving again.
Meanwhile, discovered another dog blog today by someone I met here in D.C.—the reflections of a cute little pooch named Trudy: trudydogblog.wordpress.com
I thought I might be the only person weird enough to blog about his dog. Duh ...
Friday, May 11, 2012
On the run
Maya may get her bandage off tomorrow. But as the following video taken at the parking lot where I work shows, she's clearly recovering.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Dog gone good!
The girls say they can tell Maya's getting better: she's annoying again!
She has definitely regained some of her energy and gotten more demanding of attention. All good. But better than that, the vets say she's truly amazing. The hospital vet said on Saturday that he was so impressed with Maya's progress that he projected she'd be out of her bandage in another couple of weeks, which would be six weeks from her accident. Furthermore, she may yet escape surgery to fuse her ankle bone. While most dogs with this type of sheering injury to their foot need surgery because of the loss of tendons, Maya's foot seems to be improving enough through scar tissue. "Maya may be one of the 5 percent not needing surgery," he said. Good girl.
What she may need is specialized physical therapy and I've gotten more specific exercises for her leg. To get Maya to use the leg, the vet advised the reverse of heeling—letting her lead and pulling her back at the same time to get her to plant her rear leg to push herself forward. Guess you could call it the anti-heel.
What I hadn't realized was how much and how quickly she had lost muscle mass in her thigh on the injured leg. So what do I do? Over-walked her on Sunday. We went up the mountain, since I figured she needed an uphill pull to make her use the leg. She was really wiped out that night. Yesterday I laid off.
Today we got out for only a little walk, and initially she wasn't dropping the leg much at all. Then we met some of her old friends from her puppy-day walks around the neighborhood! The old Maya emerged and she forgot all about her injury. She was standing and walking on all fours as she nuzzled her old buddy Leo, a sweet, friendly rottweiler. I was going to separate her because she was getting so excited but changed my mind seeing her walking around on all her limbs.
A sad note, though, was finding out that Leo's companion, Taz, had died in his sleep a couple of weeks ago, apparently from a heart attack. Leo was the first rottweiler I met after getting Maya. He and Taz changed my opinion of rotties. Poor Taz; he was only three years old.
It's interesting how my opinions of and feelings toward dogs has changed since getting Maya. Used to be I couldn't imagine having a smelly, obnoxious dog around. Besides, at heart I'm a cat person, as is Meche. Oh well, open your mind and your heart expands as well.
She has definitely regained some of her energy and gotten more demanding of attention. All good. But better than that, the vets say she's truly amazing. The hospital vet said on Saturday that he was so impressed with Maya's progress that he projected she'd be out of her bandage in another couple of weeks, which would be six weeks from her accident. Furthermore, she may yet escape surgery to fuse her ankle bone. While most dogs with this type of sheering injury to their foot need surgery because of the loss of tendons, Maya's foot seems to be improving enough through scar tissue. "Maya may be one of the 5 percent not needing surgery," he said. Good girl.
What she may need is specialized physical therapy and I've gotten more specific exercises for her leg. To get Maya to use the leg, the vet advised the reverse of heeling—letting her lead and pulling her back at the same time to get her to plant her rear leg to push herself forward. Guess you could call it the anti-heel.
What I hadn't realized was how much and how quickly she had lost muscle mass in her thigh on the injured leg. So what do I do? Over-walked her on Sunday. We went up the mountain, since I figured she needed an uphill pull to make her use the leg. She was really wiped out that night. Yesterday I laid off.
Today we got out for only a little walk, and initially she wasn't dropping the leg much at all. Then we met some of her old friends from her puppy-day walks around the neighborhood! The old Maya emerged and she forgot all about her injury. She was standing and walking on all fours as she nuzzled her old buddy Leo, a sweet, friendly rottweiler. I was going to separate her because she was getting so excited but changed my mind seeing her walking around on all her limbs.
A sad note, though, was finding out that Leo's companion, Taz, had died in his sleep a couple of weeks ago, apparently from a heart attack. Leo was the first rottweiler I met after getting Maya. He and Taz changed my opinion of rotties. Poor Taz; he was only three years old.
It's interesting how my opinions of and feelings toward dogs has changed since getting Maya. Used to be I couldn't imagine having a smelly, obnoxious dog around. Besides, at heart I'm a cat person, as is Meche. Oh well, open your mind and your heart expands as well.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Therapy dog
Today, three weeks after Maya was struck by a car in front of the house and spent the following week in doggie intensive care, she went for a 15-minute walk in the woods—on leash—and was incredible! With her right rear leg tightly bandaged in bright green, she enthusiastically headed out on the trail. I kept an eye on the time, since the hospital vet had said we could start taking her for short walks but not too much.
The Ridge isn't my favorite place to take her because last year when she was still a pup I took her there and she came back covered in ticks—not literally, but far more than I could stomach. The Ridge is off the road that leads to the girls' dance school and since I knew Maya couldn't go for long and had to be leashed I figured not much harm. And there wasn't. Our walks are always discoveries and today I found that leaving her seat belt harness on wasn't a bad idea. She was pulling at her collar, even though I use a training collar with plastic ridges to keep her from hurting herself, and so I clipped her leash to the back loop of her harness. Wonders! She stopped pulling and ambled alongside me rather contentedly. I don't know why, but I'll experiment more with this.
At one point I had to pick her up and carry her across the rocks over a small stream. She might have crossed on the rocks but I certainly didn't want her bandage wet. That would have been a major problem. The plastic bag I had on it to begin with didn't hold up.
The best thing, though, is she was walking on her bandaged rear leg! At first she held it up and only occasionally dropped it. Then when the trail turned uphill, she needed the extra footing and, lo and behold, she started using it with vigor. From then on I was counting two, three and four steps with the bandaged foot to one lifted. Clearly, it has to be hurting her some, but that she's starting to use it is supremely encouraging. Maya is rapidly moving into her physical therapy phase. The vets have recommended working her injured leg by extending and bending it and massaging it when we're sitting around at night. Doing that plus her own willingness to use it is all the right stuff.
By the way, the Ridge has some phenomenal stonework, including an old stone dam some 20 or 30 feet in height, with a small pond behind it and a stone tower or some sort of building alongside the pond. I've looked on the web but haven't found much info on it. I'll check into it more at some time. On an earlier trip, Maya and I explored the dam, so I know it has iron pipes and remnants of barbed wire on top, but I'm not sure that ages it because those could be later additions. It's an awfully high dam for one of stone in a narrow steam channel so I'm thinking it had to have had some commercial use maybe 60 or so years ago. Just guessing though.
After a quarter-hour walk Maya was panting and hanging her tongue out. She was happy to be back in the car. It's like having her as a pup again, though, if truth be told, I pushed her pretty hard when she was but a little bitty thing. She ate ravenously when she got home, which is also a great improvement as her appetite has been a half or three-quarters her usual.
Thinking of her as a pup is a good way to approach this convalescence. She needs babying—and maybe Kevlar booties. A friend and coworker was telling me he uses those on his dog because his pet is always cutting up its paws. When Maya's ready, that might be a good option, maybe sooner.
The Ridge isn't my favorite place to take her because last year when she was still a pup I took her there and she came back covered in ticks—not literally, but far more than I could stomach. The Ridge is off the road that leads to the girls' dance school and since I knew Maya couldn't go for long and had to be leashed I figured not much harm. And there wasn't. Our walks are always discoveries and today I found that leaving her seat belt harness on wasn't a bad idea. She was pulling at her collar, even though I use a training collar with plastic ridges to keep her from hurting herself, and so I clipped her leash to the back loop of her harness. Wonders! She stopped pulling and ambled alongside me rather contentedly. I don't know why, but I'll experiment more with this.
At one point I had to pick her up and carry her across the rocks over a small stream. She might have crossed on the rocks but I certainly didn't want her bandage wet. That would have been a major problem. The plastic bag I had on it to begin with didn't hold up.
The best thing, though, is she was walking on her bandaged rear leg! At first she held it up and only occasionally dropped it. Then when the trail turned uphill, she needed the extra footing and, lo and behold, she started using it with vigor. From then on I was counting two, three and four steps with the bandaged foot to one lifted. Clearly, it has to be hurting her some, but that she's starting to use it is supremely encouraging. Maya is rapidly moving into her physical therapy phase. The vets have recommended working her injured leg by extending and bending it and massaging it when we're sitting around at night. Doing that plus her own willingness to use it is all the right stuff.
By the way, the Ridge has some phenomenal stonework, including an old stone dam some 20 or 30 feet in height, with a small pond behind it and a stone tower or some sort of building alongside the pond. I've looked on the web but haven't found much info on it. I'll check into it more at some time. On an earlier trip, Maya and I explored the dam, so I know it has iron pipes and remnants of barbed wire on top, but I'm not sure that ages it because those could be later additions. It's an awfully high dam for one of stone in a narrow steam channel so I'm thinking it had to have had some commercial use maybe 60 or so years ago. Just guessing though.
After a quarter-hour walk Maya was panting and hanging her tongue out. She was happy to be back in the car. It's like having her as a pup again, though, if truth be told, I pushed her pretty hard when she was but a little bitty thing. She ate ravenously when she got home, which is also a great improvement as her appetite has been a half or three-quarters her usual.
Thinking of her as a pup is a good way to approach this convalescence. She needs babying—and maybe Kevlar booties. A friend and coworker was telling me he uses those on his dog because his pet is always cutting up its paws. When Maya's ready, that might be a good option, maybe sooner.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Breakfast in bed
I can't believe I fed Maya breakfast in bed today.
It certainly wasn't part of the plan, but after Fionna rudely awoke me at 8:20 to tell me she had to be at soccer at 8:30, and then rushing her to her game (sorry but I couldn't stay on such short notice), I set about getting breakfast for her mother and sister. Molly had a game herself at 10:30. Maya got up long enough to do her duty and returned to her crate. What could I do?
I made eggs, ham and cheese on English muffins (except no ham for Molly who doesn't eat pig—her sister says that's because it would be cannibalism). When I couldn't entice Maya out of her crate with bits of ham I started bringing it to her. Like who's top dog in this pack?
That ham was meant for Elsie's Canadian bean soup, which I was making as part of my post-Easter tradition, but there was enough left over to spare for a convalescing canine. Besides, Elsie would have done the same if she were still with us.
Actually, Maya is doing extremely well, and both our local vet and the hospital vets rave about how well-behaved and docile she is. But she doesn't have much energy and after getting up for a bit will usually return to bed—unless one of the cats is in sight, in which case Maya can't help but over-exert herself hobbling after it. The hospital vet who changed Maya's bandage on Saturday said we could stop the pain medication unless we noticed Maya was uncomfortable. I did skip it once but she seemed agitated and bothered by her leg so I continued giving it to her. This afternoon, though, I gave her only one of the two and she seems fine. Poor pooch, no point in pushing her cold turkey.
The vet also said they did not use sedation to change her bandage, which is great progress, and she said Maya behaved wonderfully. She said they saw no need to continue using the special dressing because the wound has closed and they're very happy with the progress and will see her again in two weeks. I asked if it was certain that Maya would need her ankle fused and the vet said they were not completely sure. She said as scar tissue forms it may improve the stability of the ankle but they have to wait and see. Also, she recommended not allowing Maya too much exercise so as to help scar tissue form but said the splint was holding it fairly immobile now. She said we could take Maya for 10 minute walks if we wanted. But I notice even now if Maya's out for even a few minutes she wants to come back in and lie down (exception noted above relevant to small furry distractions).
Now, about breakfast. Of course, I considered that Maya might just have been playing me. After all, she saw me serving the other women in the house and she's nothing if not one smart ... eh, dog.
It certainly wasn't part of the plan, but after Fionna rudely awoke me at 8:20 to tell me she had to be at soccer at 8:30, and then rushing her to her game (sorry but I couldn't stay on such short notice), I set about getting breakfast for her mother and sister. Molly had a game herself at 10:30. Maya got up long enough to do her duty and returned to her crate. What could I do?
I made eggs, ham and cheese on English muffins (except no ham for Molly who doesn't eat pig—her sister says that's because it would be cannibalism). When I couldn't entice Maya out of her crate with bits of ham I started bringing it to her. Like who's top dog in this pack?
That ham was meant for Elsie's Canadian bean soup, which I was making as part of my post-Easter tradition, but there was enough left over to spare for a convalescing canine. Besides, Elsie would have done the same if she were still with us.
Actually, Maya is doing extremely well, and both our local vet and the hospital vets rave about how well-behaved and docile she is. But she doesn't have much energy and after getting up for a bit will usually return to bed—unless one of the cats is in sight, in which case Maya can't help but over-exert herself hobbling after it. The hospital vet who changed Maya's bandage on Saturday said we could stop the pain medication unless we noticed Maya was uncomfortable. I did skip it once but she seemed agitated and bothered by her leg so I continued giving it to her. This afternoon, though, I gave her only one of the two and she seems fine. Poor pooch, no point in pushing her cold turkey.
The vet also said they did not use sedation to change her bandage, which is great progress, and she said Maya behaved wonderfully. She said they saw no need to continue using the special dressing because the wound has closed and they're very happy with the progress and will see her again in two weeks. I asked if it was certain that Maya would need her ankle fused and the vet said they were not completely sure. She said as scar tissue forms it may improve the stability of the ankle but they have to wait and see. Also, she recommended not allowing Maya too much exercise so as to help scar tissue form but said the splint was holding it fairly immobile now. She said we could take Maya for 10 minute walks if we wanted. But I notice even now if Maya's out for even a few minutes she wants to come back in and lie down (exception noted above relevant to small furry distractions).
Now, about breakfast. Of course, I considered that Maya might just have been playing me. After all, she saw me serving the other women in the house and she's nothing if not one smart ... eh, dog.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Slow road back
Maya is home and on a slow road to recovery.
She got out of doggie hospital the end of last week, with one toe amputated. For now, she's going to the vet every other day to have her bandaged changed. Fortunately, our local vet can do that now so we're spared the longer trip. She has to be sedated for them to do the change but as she heals better that shouldn't be necessary.
The vet at the hospital says she'll need surgery to fuse her ankle bone to keep it stable because she lost ligaments attaching it. I don't have any reason to doubt what he says, and they're top-notch surgeons there, but still I am getting a second, and maybe a third, opinion before we do that. But her wound needs to heal more before they can do any more on her so we have some time.
Since I don't have Maya with me I don't go traipsing around the Wilderness or the Mountain anymore. Almost everyone who goes to the Wilderness is walking their dog or dogs, and the Mountain has mountain bikers and a few other hikers, but most of the few people I meet there are likewise walking a pooch. It just wouldn't be the same without my buddy and would seem a bit maudlin. I don't want to get sappy about my dog, but, in truth, I feel bummed when I'm running these days and see others running or walking their dogs. I ran six miles today and it seemed like I met three or four other runners with their dogs. I felt like saying, "She'll be back." Just don't know when.
So, I run more, trek less and am still finding interesting stuff in the woods. The other say I saw a small sign off a little used trail that I was walking just to cool down after an hour run. The sign said "Glacial Erratic." I know what they are—odd, out-of-place boulders left by the last ice age 10,000 years ago. So a detoured to see it. It was cool. Maya doesn't appreciate these things, so I'm not feeling guilty about finding it without her. She just tags along and humors me. She has other interests, and probably feels likewise: that I'm good company but just don't fully appreciate some of the best parts of our adventures. Another day ...
She got out of doggie hospital the end of last week, with one toe amputated. For now, she's going to the vet every other day to have her bandaged changed. Fortunately, our local vet can do that now so we're spared the longer trip. She has to be sedated for them to do the change but as she heals better that shouldn't be necessary.
.JPG) |
| Maya at home with Easter basket art painted on her dressing painted by one of the vet techs after her bandaged was changed on Saturday. Today the local vet transferred the art to new wrap! |
Since I don't have Maya with me I don't go traipsing around the Wilderness or the Mountain anymore. Almost everyone who goes to the Wilderness is walking their dog or dogs, and the Mountain has mountain bikers and a few other hikers, but most of the few people I meet there are likewise walking a pooch. It just wouldn't be the same without my buddy and would seem a bit maudlin. I don't want to get sappy about my dog, but, in truth, I feel bummed when I'm running these days and see others running or walking their dogs. I ran six miles today and it seemed like I met three or four other runners with their dogs. I felt like saying, "She'll be back." Just don't know when.
 |
| Glacial erratic |
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