The picture of The Punk was not intentionally blurred.
(I wasn't even aware that one could get the double image on a digital camera).
Until now.
Seeing it now, knowing what I now know, it is perfect for this posting...
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Good Morning Everyone;
Please do not scroll down to see how this ends...
...Just read; as it happened here.
(And yes, you might want to grab a cup of coffee).
Maybe a kleenex-
And you might not even care to read should you have a weak stomach.
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I remember, vaguely, as I typed yesterday, being ever so tired. (And am fairly sure the very same thought applied to the day before)...
As it does for today.
Again yesterday afternoon Casey needed fluids, even though she has been dutifully 'water~logging' herself at home?
Not sure about all that, but I do know that her Dr. is trying his level best to keep her from being hospitalized too.
Added at 2:30PM: Casey is now hospitalized; amylase and lipase over 1000.
But let's not begin this blog at the clinic; (for I was barely there); having brought her in, securing a wheelchair and a guard for her, and promptly leaving once more.
No, let's not begin there either...
Let's begin with a subtitle.
How about ...
"Once a Parent, ALWAYS a Parent"
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As parents, or those of you that love AS parents, we tend to lose sleep. Hence the bits of sleep deprivation that we have from time to time.
And even as we curse that same deprivation, we would never exchange it for not experiencing it either. For to do so would eliminate the very reason we care enough to lose sleep in the first place.
It also crosses my mind, (and my heart), that this fierce loyalty, dedication, and love knows no genetic code; nor genus.
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Mama Milly and Her 10 Babies...
Taken when they were about a week old. (04-05-06).
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Mama Milly, with many Orbs...
???.
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...PROLOGUE...
As you all know, I ended up keeping one of those pups...
(And yes, I am ever so thankful for that)...
I believe, in her own right, Mama Milly's kind of thankful for that too.
There's someone to play with...
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There's someone to fight with...
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Someone, just like herself ~
To "hide" behind the barngrade with too...
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I have used this blurry picture just so you have an idea as to how very steep the other side of the barngrade is...
(I was standing at the top as I took this picture last summer).
...And my true blog begins...
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Yeah, it was kinda like that....
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I was ever so tired yesterday morning and thought I might just close my eyes and nap a bit. It was terribly chilly still- having gotten below zero, and was only a few measly degrees above late in the morning.
Miss Milly was still inside, but out in the entrance.
Casey had come down earlier, in awful pain once more; had drank something and had returned to bed.
All was quiet-
A perfect opportunity to catch a few Zzz's !
Punk and I curled up on the couch...
Casey came down very shortly after that, in terrible pain, very nauseated; vomiting too.
She called the clinic, but with their automated system was put on hold... Handing the phone to me when another wave of nausea threatened, she disappeared back into the bathroom.
As luck would have it, this is when they came on the line...
Yes. All of the nurses know her by name. I told the nurse what was going on. She called for the doctor, and I was to bring Casey in ASAP.
No problem.
(Well, no problem as long as I could allow one of my Xanax to work a bit before I left home anyway)...
Given the temps, I would allow my car warm up so we wouldn't freeze too much.
But wait, the dogs need to go out first...
Miss Milly will also need fresh water in her kennel while we are gone too.
I let the dogs out.
And locate my car keys.
I opened the garage door.
(All of about 25 seconds have passed since I have let them outside)...
As soon as the garage door quiets, I hear a dog bark/yelp in pain.
(I do not see them at this point).
Just one quick, loud yelp.
Then nothing...
I do not start the car.
Immediately, I holler for them both to come, as a car drives by at breakneck speed.
(My heart sinks a bit)...
I listen for them.
Nothing. ~Not even the tinkling of their tags on their collars...
I holler again. My heart beating a bit faster, and not due to the cold temps either.
And I listen...
Nothing. (I swear that I hear my heart though)...
I yell a third time.
And this time, as my heart is about to plunge through my throat they both appear at the top of the barngrade.
Miss Milly with Punks collar in her mouth, seemingly dragging this pup.
(She can play so rough sometimes)...
I tell them "COME!"
Miss Milly, (still with Punks collar in her mouth), turns and comes down the barngrade.
Oh for heavens sakes!
She, (they), stop by the firepit.
She is still hanging onto her Punkster.
Dang dogs anyway...
Don't they know I have a sick kid?
(Casey is getting dressed, trying not to barf in the bathroom, and I seem to have my hands full with these silly dogs).
"Milly, knock it off!"
She does.
And comes running toward me.
I open the door and let her in.
Punk still sits atop the snowcovered firepit. Snow on her face.
"Punk, COME!"
She barely even turns to look at me.
"PUNK!"
(I did not even have shoes on, and my patience is wearing a bit thin).
Think, Anne, THINK....
Ever so sweetly now... "Hey Punk, wanna go for a ride?!"
(Yup. It worked)!
And as she came toward me, she walked funny. Looking off to the south, and holding her head all wrong.
Something weird.
I remember saying something like, yeah, ok, you got hurt. Get inside.
She did.
And went and sat in front of the treat door.
Mama Milly taking her own place in the entrance.
Normal for these two.
I checked on Casey, but not before having caught a glimpse of Punk.
She had a piece of Mama Millys red cedar chips from her kennel in her eye.
Since I am ok with almost everything BUT eyeballs; I ask Casey to get that chip out as I look for my shoes...
A second or two later, I hear Casey, "Mom, we need to get her to the vet NOW."
I cannot breathe.
I cannot look.
Still. I do.
My heart stops, even as my breathing returned. (Hyperventilating IS breathing)...
The little piece of red cedar chip that I thought I had seen was actually a branch of a tree, a bit thicker than the thickness of a pencil- with about 1/2 inch protruding from her left eye.
(And Casey thought SHE had a corner on the nausea)???
Casey picked up the phone as I had shouted the vets number and held Punks paw down.
(She SO wanted to get that stick out)!
The phone call...
...After narrowing down which dog was injured, Jeanine did not even allow Casey to finish her sentence; saying, "We'll see you in a minute."
Jeanine knows that Mama Milly weighs about 58 pounds, and that Punk is over 90 pounds; Dr. Spires needed to be prepared for which dog was actually hurt...
I find my shoes and take my Xanax while Casey restrains our 90 pound pup.
I get Punk to the car. Casey quickly gets into the back with her and I drive like hell to get there as fast as I can.
I do believe the only whimpering came from Casey and myself.
Punk was stoic but shaking. Shock.
Casey, (who has studied both small and large animal vet science), was holding her tight. She tells me how rapid Punks heart rate is, and how shallow her breath sounds are.
(Not a complete dunce myself, this info only makes me drive faster).
This too is shock; (and probably on all our parts)...
Can that stick be as long as to have punctured her brain?
I park in the 'no parking zone', and run inside the clinic, almost as the doctor is on his way out.
He carries her inside, and she was sedated within a few moments.
(I would have paid triple for that same sedation)...
Checking the injury, and the stick, he tells us the stick actually has missed the eyeball.
He will need to put her to sleep to remove the stick.
No. He cannot say how deep it is; just that it does not 'give' in any direction.
We wait for him to clear the schedule and to care for the animals that have come in while we are there.
These minutes seem so very long...
Punk was, for the most part, out of it...
They finally come back to take her away from us.
Dr. Spires carries her once more to where she would have her surgery...
I go out and speak to the receptionist for a minute.
I tell her I need to go home and collect my purse.
(Forgotten in the priority of the moment).
Casey goes into the bathroom, and we hear how very sick she is...
Angel, (the receptionist), goes to the back, comes back out and tells me Punk will not be able to leave til after 3:00.
We leave to get Casey a coat, (she had forgotten to even put her coat on when she'd seen the dog that way), to collect my purse, my cellphone, and to get Casey to her own doctor...
And I prayed so very hard during those moments away from them both.
I think of how very steep that barngrade is off the backside.
And how very hard it must have been for Mama Milly to have dragged her 90 pound offspring to the top of it, with her collar in her mouth!
But mama dogs always carry their babies by the neck in their mouths too...
How Milly was SO very reluctant to let go of her own baby girl.
But she knew I could/would see her girl, and do something then...
And how, when Casey and I had stopped back at home before I had dropped KC off at the clinic, how Mama Milly had whined and barked; knowing her little Punk was not in the car with us, and not knowing why...
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If "Mama" don't care, NOBODY cares.
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I brought Casey to the clinic...
Then had to go back to Suamico to get Punkin...
And was scared to even go back there, not knowing how she had come through the surgery and all.
When I arrived I was told that she had not yet woken up (fully) and that it would be a few minutes yet.
I was then shown a little bag that contained the weapon.
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Note the far right side that has not been darkened by blood.
This is the only part that was sticking out of her eye socket..
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I also notice that the far right side is a "fresh" break.
I do not know if those dogs were fighting over a silly stick or if this got snapped off as soon as Mama Milly heard the yelp and pulled her 'baby' to safety. (I am thinking I do not want to know).
The vet said that Punk will probably not lose her sight in that eye.
But that was NOT actually a concern of mine. That probably sounds cold, but I was more worried about losing her.
He also had to put two small stitches into the third eyelid that she has, as it got a bit torn up.
I have drops to put in her eye 5 or 6 times a day til they are gone; and she does not seem to mind these at all.
(Of course Dr. Spires also told me that her eye might be numb for about 24 hours too).
And that she would sleep whole bunches.
She has.
And is.
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But when those beautiful eyes are opened, they still send all their love.
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As I do too.
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I must go now.
XOXO
Me
