On Haskell's recovery...

As you all may or may not remember, when I found Haskell last June, he had been hit by a car. Ever since, the little guy has had a pretty significant limp. Initially, my vet prescribed over-the-counter joint supplements to help support and repair Haskell’s injured shoulder. However, as time wore on, it became apparent that this treatment wasn’t working. In fact, Haskell seemed to be getting worse.

So, last month, I decided to take my fluffy puppy back to the doctor. I was worried because, as the winter wore on, I had noticed Haskell utilizing the limb less and less. This was confirmed by the vet during the examination. Haskell was suffering from pretty significant atrophy in his front left leg. As a result, the left arm was considerably smaller than the one on the right. The vet was concerned that, if allowed to continue without treatment, he could lose the use of the limb completely. In that case, we’d have no other option than to (gasp!) amputate it.

Consequently, x-rays were ordered, and the results really weren’t all that surprising: Haskell needed surgery to repair the damage done to his shoulder during the accident. It wasn’t an emergency procedure per say, but the vet wanted the surgery to be scheduled sooner than later. The reason was simple: Haskell was in pain. A lot of pain. Plus, the more time that went by, the more irreparable damage would be done to the joint.

Therefore, last Wednesday (the 21st), my little stray dog went under the knife.

At first, Haskell seemed to be a good candidate for arthroscopic surgery. However, once on the operating table, this plan had to be scratched. Apparently, a large flap of cartilage was floating around inside the joint. It was so big that the surgeons had no other option than to remove it the hard way: by opening the joint and pulling the sucker out. This ended up being a good thing, because, once inside, they discovered several other pieces of rogue cartilage, a couple of bone spurs as well as a fracture in the joint that had never healed properly (most likely caused by the run in with the automobile). To fix this last problem, they had to drill into Haskell’s bone and even every thing out (ouch!). Since I’m not a doctor, the specifics were kind of lost on me. That said, I did grasp that the surgery, itself, was rather invasive. Ironically, this equaled “cheaper” somehow. Had they been successful at fixing the shoulder arthroscopically, my final bill would have been much, much more. Go figure.

Anyway, Haskell had to spend Wednesday night at the surgery center hooked up to a morphine drip (lucky dog). I wanted to visit him, and even mustered up the courage to ask the receptionist if this was a possibility (I could feel her rolling her eyes). Sadly, though, my request was turned down. Apparently, Haskell was still loopy from surgery, and (yes, I’m quoting an actual conversation here) “he probably didn’t even know he was a dog, much less in a state to recognize his doggie momma.” According to the receptionist, if he was lucid enough to know who I was, Haskell would probably jump to the erroneous conclusion that he was going home. This would be a bad thing since the little man had an all night date with lady morphine at the surgical center in Mesquite.

Haskell was finally allowed to go home late on Thursday afternoon. I had to meet with a vet before they would release him to me. The purpose was rather routine: they wanted to fill me in on the surgery, tell me how to administer the post operative drugs, etc. It was during this meeting that I was presented with a small container. Inside: a chunk of Haskell’s cartilage. Yes, that’s right. They gave me a part of my dog in a bottle. Apparently, it was one of the largest flaps of cartilage they had ever removed from the joint of a dog Haskell’s size. Oddly enough, I wasn’t as excited about my newly acquired souvenir as was the doctor. Hmmmmm…can’t imagine why?! I wonder what I should do with it now? Can you throw stuff like that away? Maybe I’ll “regift” it to Haskell’s regular vet as a special “Thank You”. Is that (too) weird?!

So, Haskell is home now and recovering from the whole ordeal. He has to wear a lampshade until the stitches come out, which is embarrassing for everyone involved – especially on walks around the neighborhood. He runs into everything, and - if he bends down to sniff something - the lampshade acts like a plastic bull dozer. Small plants and animals beware! Only good thing about it is that Haskell, as far as I can tell, has no idea that a good quarter of his body has been shaved. He looks ridiculous – especially his two front legs. It kind of appears as if Haskell is wearing knee socks that have fallen down around his wrists. He’d look normal if only he’d pull his fluff back up where it belongs!

I’ve also made the somewhat shocking discovery that, while prepping him for surgery, Haskell apparently had one of his nipples (accidentally) shaved off. I’m hoping that Haskell’s hair will grow out and cover the place where the amputated nipple was once located. If I’m lucky, this will happen BEFORE he gets his lampshade off in the next five to seven days. I’m sure it would be traumatic for him to suddenly discover he’d “misplaced” a nipple in the past two weeks. Granted, Haskell has four or five times as many nipples as I do (not to mention the fact they serve no purpose), but still…

The worst thing about this whole post-surgery/recovery thing is the color of Haskell’s stitches. It apparently wasn’t bad enough that he had to have surgery in the first place. Oh, no, no. They also had to stitch him up using neon pink thread. If that isn’t a blow to his masculinity, I don’t know what is! Trevor and I have tried to soothe him by referring to them as, “very, very, VERY MANLY pink stitches”. However, I think Haskell knows the truth. Poor guy. Talk about adding insult to injury! This will probably take years of therapy to correct.

Anyway, below are some pictures of “the patient”. Is it wrong that they make me giggle? I mean, I feel bad for the little guy, I do! It’s just that, well, Haskell kind looks like a poodle having a bad hair day. And that lampshade…(snicker! snicker!). Let’s just say Trevor suggested we use him as a rain gage. :P

(Don’t forget to hold your mouse over the images to see my commentary!)