CSI: Bondville
Oh, no! My boy’s back in the cone again! And the doc says he’ll have to wear it for 10 days! Along with no activity! Can anyone imagine my 15-month-old turbo-charged little red duck dog not running and swimming and fetching
and jumping for 10 days?? Wish me luck. This is not going to be pretty.
Here’s what happened: It was Sunday in Vermont — a gorgeous, cold, late-autumn day — and Kemba and I were at Gale Meadows Pond, swimming and playing fetch. (He was swimming. I was in thermals and a hoodie and a quilted jacket and a wool ski cap.) We’d been doing this
for well over half an hour when, after maybe his 1,500th fetch, he dropped to the grass and began feverishly licking his right paw — and I saw blood all over the place! He’d slit open his paw pad on a piece of glass, or a sharp rock, and if you don’t already happen to know how much a dog’s paw can bleed, here’s your answer: a freaking lot!
I carried him to the car, which in no time looked like a crime scene — fresh blood all over the seats, the console, me, and poor Kemba — and called ahead to my first-aid team back at the house: Carol, and guests Lang and Marilyn, Mike and Leslie. By the time Kemba and I made it home, Carol had already reached the nearest on-call emergency vet, in Bennington, who clearly sounded like a guy who’d rather be watching Pats vs. Giants than dealing with a bloody pup. Following his advice, I wrestled Kemba to the ground while Lang cleaned his wounded paw and then applied gauze and a bandage. This arrangement
didn’t please Kemba, and lasted for maybe 7 seconds, but we were able to keep him comfortable and just enough under control till we made it back to CT and got him to the VCA Veterinary Emergency Center in Norwalk, where our dear Ricky passed many a night during his epilepsy episodes. Kemba emerged with a bright new bandage in turkey decor, a cone on his head, and the aforementioned 10-day sentence.
At this point, it’s not the paw that has me worried; that’s healing just fine. It’s making him wear the cone and keeping him away from the dog park and his other haunts that I can’t bear. Last time he went conehead, when he got his equipment snipped, I chickened out and headed to Montauk for a five-day “weekend” while Luz watched my poor dog. Right about now, I’m contemplating another vanishing act.
Any ideas?
LOOK FOR A NEW BEAGLE MAN POST EVERY THURSDAY. OR PRETTY CLOSE TO THURSDAY. COULD BE WEDNESDAY. OR FRIDAY. LET’S NOT GET TOO OBSESSIVE HERE . . . OH, AND BTW, YOU CAN ALSO FOLLOW ME ON FACEBOOK, TWITTER, AND INSTAGRAM.
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Oh Kemba I’m sorry!
I had a cone too and my mom got me a “blow up donut” that looked a bit like those human neck pillows. It worked better for me and I was able to rest on it too. Love Amazing grace
Oh dear, I know only too well how much dogs hate being cone heads! We know it’s to keep them from chewing off the necessary bandage so their paw will heal up, but all they know is “This thing on my paw is WRONG and I’ve got to get it off NOW.” Good luck with the “keeping him still” part. Not what you needed before Thanksgiving! I’m sending my latest revision, will see your comments later. See Ya.