Pamela Harris

Wednesday June 22, 2014

We had been throwing a ball at the dog run and as we leashed up to leave two of Ginger's friends came in. Things get a little wild with these two dogs, but Ginger hadn't had a good rumble in a couple of days so I stayed. It's all fun and games until someone starts crying, and on Wednesday that someone was me. As Ginger was barreling down the astroturf flanked by her mates she suddenly screamed and dropped onto her side. She laid there stone still, not moving.

It took me two seconds to reach her. The other owners quickly grabbed their dogs as I carefully looked her over. The astroturf gets slippery and it happened so fast I couldn't figure out what she hurt. I slowly checked each leg for a broken bone or something in her paw or anything that would tell me what happened. She didn't cry at all so I helped her to her feet and saw that whatever happened, it was her right leg. She was limping as I led her out of the run so we sat for a few minutes to settle. Joe was uptown and I couldn't call him for help, so I picked her up and carried her home.

I was a wreck, much more than she was. She's a compact forty pounds so I could walk okay with her, but had to stop a few times climbing the stairs. She was so calm. It didn't seem like anything was broken, but I wanted to get her home and get a good look at her. Instead I ended up taking her back out -- she had to pee as soon as we got home, and while we were outside Joe came home. Or really, I kept her down there since I knew he'd be home soon.

He carried her upstairs and she let him gently turn her this way and that. We iced her leg and she seemed okay, except she wouldn't put weight on it. We hoped it was a sprain, but our vet was closed so the next morning we went over before they opened and waited. Our vet took us immediately and it turned out it was a sprain, and now Ginger is on a pain killer, an anti-inflammatory and rest.

All Thursday she was mellow and quiet. Joe carried her up and down the stairs, and outside she wouldn't put weight on her leg but would occasionally test it. We carried her to a local garden where she could sit on a bench and get attention then Friday evening her banshee came out. She started racing around the apartment on three legs, she threw her toys in the air, she dragged her bed around the living room. Yesterday she woke up and was barely limping. When we wouldn't take her to the dog run she ripped her blanket off her bed and wrapped it around her head so she could furiously gnaw her way through it. We did take her on a slow walk, emphasis on slow, but no playing with dogs until we check in with the vet on Monday. This morning she was like a popped spring at 5:15 a.m. so Joe took her out with a ball to roll, not chase.

In the last couple of days she's gained a couple pounds between growing and no exercise. She loves being carried and now lifts her paw when she's done walking. Carry me to that squished rat. Bring me to the garden. Find me a chicken bone. Give me a cookie and make it artisanal. She's gone from sweet Ginger to insane Ginger, but it's still a relief to see her inching back to herself.


Give them an inch and they take a mile!

Beth Rooks | June 23, 2014 at 09:13 am

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