The only thing as good as seeing the grandkids is seeing the granddog! Storm came for the weekend while Second Son went to a St. Louis wedding. We hadn’t seen her since Christmas. She arrived on Friday night and we all ate Taco Town and watched movies together.
Saturday morning DH went off on a fence project, Second Son headed for St. Louis, and Storm and I went shopping. Of course we visited her favorite place afterwards, Sonic. Storm loves Sonic cups with icy water. We had hot dogs for lunch, but the gal had to hold the tray a minute until Sonic could get her first slurps of ice. She was so excited to see HER cup coming.
A thunderstorm blew up and we returned home for baking and reading, snatches of quiet afternoon. Then in the evening she chased a cat and trouble hit. In running she hurt her leg, a leg that had been tender during the winter. I worried and stewed all night long, and by morning I was a wreck since Storm wouldn’t use that hind leg. DH, in his farm wisdom that means animals take care of themselves and his male wisdom that means be manly tough and walk through any pain, said ignore it and the trouble would go away. But I could not stand it and took her to Doggie ER. Thank heavens for such a thing!
Storm has torn ligaments and needs surgery. The vet said it is not uncommon in dogs. She needs rest and to let the inflammation go down before doing anything. Son took her back to Wichita after getting over the shock. And being a typical male, he asked, “What will this cost?” I don’t know, but I do know Stormy is worth any and every dime. I love this dog.
I so miss having my own dog. This is the longest time in my life with no dog. I had one as a child and never was without the companionship of a dog until a few years ago when our 17 year old rescued dog faded away. I even had a dog for a while in college, sneaking him in until the landlord caught us. By then my dad loved the dog from weekend visits and took him for me, giving the dog a good home. However, feeling this terrible sick heart for Storm reminds me that the responsibility of a dog is great. I treat my dogs like family and therefore I can’t leave them outside in the cold, let them hunker in a dog house in the rain, leave them in a kennel while I travel. They sleep in my room and have been known to be on my bed. My dogs own me, body and soul. I wonder if I have the juice left to be a good dog owner? Well, the question is rhetorical at the moment. I can’t think of anything until Storm is running on all four again!