Here is Coquina yesterday, right after coming home from the “dogspital”.
Coquina has been spayed. She is now an evolutionary dead end.
We agonized over whether to sterilize her, and reluctantly decided that that was the right thing to do. The details of our thoughts and arguments pro and con would take too much space here, so they are omitted.
A friend said, “You broke the mold!”
But not without more than a few alases for this little lass.
When she came home she was zonked out. Totally.
She was weak and groggy and foggy and unsteady and her breath still smelled of the anesthesia compounds used to make her sleep through the operation. She slept most of the afternoon, she wasn’t much interested in drink or in food, though she did lick some yogurt from Christine’s fingers.
The vet gave us terrible warnings about the peril of her chewing her stitches. For ten days she must not chew or lick herself, and must not run or jump or climb stairs. (Good luck with that, right? We’ve got the stairs blocked off…) They sent us off with instructions to immediately get her a cone.
In “the cone”.
We’ve had trouble with the cone.
The one in the picture was too small, and the next size up was way too big. Both sizes went back to the pet store. Now we’re trying to use one of those inflatable collars. Fortunately, she’s been so sleepy that we haven’t had to ride herd on her all the time.
Interestingly, the trauma seems to have made her revert to an earlier-stage level of submissiveness. She stops immediately, when trying to chew her stitches, if we tell her “No!”. She so wants to please.
She didn’t want to sleep away from us, and so spent the night in between us, in between the two sets of pillows, where she can look out the window and see the stars. We wrapped her in an old T-shirt to try to keep her from messing with her stitches. She slept solidly, thanks to remnant anesthesia and paid meds.
We, without benefit of anesthesia or drugs, did not sleep nearly as well.
Morning came. Coquina’s improvement is like the difference between night and day. She ate, she went outside to take a whizz, and came back inside to get back to the important business of being a coddled convalescent.
This she did by jumping up to her spot on the couch.
She got a new toy from her doting “Mom”.
Which she knew just what to do with.
She’s been awfully good about leaving her belly alone.
Most of “day two” has been spent in shut-eye.
It’s easy to remember to not pick at your stitches when you’re asleep