The Casual Tripawd: Cracker Jack lost his leg today
The Casual Tripawd, Part 1
Cracker Jack lost his leg today
It was 3 am. Zoie wanted out. I didn't realize poor Jack was in the desk nest. So, after getting up, I pulled my chair away from the desk to prevent her from getting onto it and eating all Things That Should Not Be Eaten. I got as far as the hall when a loud crash and screams made me race back to where Jack now lay on the floor.
I have not heard a dog scream like that since my vet tech days 30 years ago. These were the sounds made when a K9 is shot, or a dog slips from their owner and is struck by a car, or a slab of something heavy tips over and traps a dog's backside. Jack made these sounds and my experience kicked in: assess and prioritize. The guilt and self-blame would be addressed later.
His entire front left leg swung freely from his shoulder, traveling too far behind him. Dislocation, perhaps. The thing that caused him the most pain was the carpals. The leg hung at an odd angle, and the carpals didn't line up right. I suspected a hairline fracture to either the radius or the ulna.
I cradled him and soothed his hurt by keeping him as still as possible. Rocking did him some good. Then I called our vet. His mobile number forwarded me to his answering service's mail. I left a brief message. I then had J get me the number for the nearest emergency clinic. An exam and two x-rays would cost $900. Was that also for surgery? No.
Fuck.
Our vet's office opened in a few hours. Jack was stable and sleeping in my arms. I opted to wait. It's a good thing that I did.
I arrived at 8 am. They could tell by my face and Jack's low moans that something was amiss. I was directed to a treatment room. As it turns out, Dr K does surgery on Fridays. I explained what happened. Jack went back for an immediate x-ray. The prognosis was grim.
I stood in the back, with Jack cradled in my arms, as Dr K and I looked the x-ray over. Poor pup had clean, transverse fractures to both the radius and ulna. The breaks were too close to the carpels to insert rods or pins. A cast wouldn't work well for similar reasons. The only feasible option was amputation of the leg. I remember sighing. We have to do what's best when all other options are off the table. I agreed to the surgery. I sprinkled kisses all over Jack's face, told him that I loved him very much, and held back tears as the tech took him away.
Hours later, I checked in and learned that they were about to call me. Jack made it through surgery without any issues, his leg was amputated without any problems, and he was waking up just fine. Hours after that, Dr K called and asked if I wanted to take him home. The staff had reminded him that I was a tech in my early years. I said yes, and we raced to the clinic. The man had likely been there since 6 am; he sounded exhausted. We arrived and I followed him into the back area to help remove Jack's IV. He mentioned more than a few times that Jack was a sweet, good-nature dog.
Jack is a Pomeranian puppy. He got floof. Looking at him now, I know the fur covering surgically necessary areas was shaved off. His entire torso is covered in wrap.
What happens next? Dunno. I forgot to ask. I'll call on Monday.
I don't know if our vet clinic supports physical therapy after amputation. It does work, and it keeps the remaining limb healthy rather than wearing it out. I remember some of the routines. I'll have to look them up. I'll also turn to Tripawds for good advice.
And now, finally, I can unleash some self-blame upon myself. Goodnight, people.