Letters to Lyla and Lottie

Ty baby was robbed of his manhood last Monday. It was quite the traumatic experience- I feel compelled to share (what? if someones 6-month old kid got their nuts chopped off you can bet mother dearest would post about it). So, after refusing Ty baby food for a whole 24-hours, I dragged his sorry butt to the pet hospital at 8 am to begin what was probably the worst day of his life. I was already nervous and then to top it all of the vet tech made me hold Ty down while they sedated him. Why? I still don't know. Poor baby was whimpering like mad. I also saw the table and caught sight of one of the techs sharpening a knife (okay not really) but the smell and the sight just really creeped me out. I wanted to live in denial about the whole thing but that ruined it. When I got to my car I totally started bawling. I just felt so bad for him and couldn't remember why we thought this was a good idea in the first place.

So, the tech told me to call at 3pm and if he was awake I might be able to take him home that day- otherwise (which is the standard) they would keep him overnight to ensure that he comes out of the anesthesia okay. I really wanted to take him home that night bc I was sure he would hate sleeping in a kennel in a place the REEKS of urine. So, I call at 3 and the vet gets on the phone- I nearly crapped bc that can't be good right? He says, "well, normally with a pup this young and of this size, we have to keep em over night. I really can't believe it but your pup is up and at em' and well, come get him". I get to the office and this eighty year old women tells she'll she'll be back in a minute with him. She walks down the hall and around the corner...a few mins later I hear crashing,a bunch of dogs barking and a "now don't do that little guy". Then I get the visual of my 12-lb buddy bolting towards me and dragging the old lady behind him. At that pt I knew all was well- major surgery did NOTHING to calm my crazy jack. As I paid I asked the lady if there was anything I needed to know. She said "nope that's it"

The rest of the evening and next day Ty was his normal crazy self. We walked the long hot trail near my house-he didn't tire. We ran on the tread mill-he didn't tire. We went to my mom's where Ty went down the slip and slide repeatedly- he didn't tire. Then we went home. And things weren't right. Ty started moaning this god-forsaken moan and shaking uncontrollably, then started licking his parts-then I saw blood oozing. So, I called the office and they ran out to the parking lot to catch the vet who was just leaving to ask him what to do. He said he probably busted a stitch and that it was probably infected. He told them to give me some cream to apply nightly and that Ty would have to wear the cone-thing for the next TWO WEEKS.

Now, normally this wouldn't have been that big of a thing except that when I went to pick up the stuff I asked if it was bad that he got wet- she looked at me like I was a complete idiot and said that they can't get wet for two weeks and that this probably caused the problem. I then had a BF and asked why they didn't have post-op instructions. She then replied that they did and inquired about who helped me and why I didn't get any. THEN, I was really bent. It is bc some decrepit, ornery skank that has no job satisfaction didn't give me instructions that my baby is sick and has to wear a bloody cone around his face for two weeks. Obviously, I was really mad at myself for not employing common sense and making him stay out of the water (I will add however that my nurse mother and sister said it would be fine). Anyway, putting on the collar was the saddest thing- he fought it forever and then just gave up. After running into the coffee table a billion times, Ty went to the corner and whined for a good 20 mins. It was so sad seeing my crazy pup lay their tireless from depression (taking it too far? okay, I thought so).

Anyway, to make a long story less-long, Ty and I went to Panquitch that night (which was an awesome drive btw bc Ty insisted on sitting in my lap and his damn cone got stuck on the steering wheel and the blinker every two seconds) and Todd decided to hell with the cone, we'd just deter him from licking his wounds. Surprisingly, it worked. We just told him 'no' in a really mean voice a couple times and he never did it again.

I am happy to report that Ty is now doing fine and his stitches are healing well. He's back to his crazy self. I have no pictures bc I couldn't bring myself to take a pic while he had that little cone on his head. Ok, I think I've sufficiently convinced you all that I am a crazy person. So, until next time.