It’s never a dull day with Puppy in tow and the past month or so has been no exception.
To say that it’s been difficult would be an understatement–but to say it hasn’t been fun would be wrong. Leading up to Christmas, the area I live in had a downpour of sorts that is pretty rare for the season. Every day for a week or so, it would rain. It would flood, everything would be soaked and then for a day it would be dry. The sun would come out, there’d be this slight sense of hope, and then for the next week–it’d be raining.
Now that we have a fenced-in yard, it isn’t that hard to get him outside. Where it used to be our only option was to walk Flynn up and down the driveway over and over just to get him out, we have a ton of space now that he can run around in, even when it’s wet. The problem is, as much as he loves rainwater, he doesn’t love when it’s falling on him, so the situation we were in for the majority of December was one that went like this: it would rain all day, he’d be bored, running crazy, barking and what not–we’d let him out, even try to go out with him for a little bit, but all he would want was to come back inside.
It was maddening. And it went on for a couple of weeks.
I felt bad for him too. There was an entire break there were he could have spent entire days outside with Abbie and I playing with him, with him just running around, messing with the other dogs, getting into stuff–whatever he wanted–but instead, the ground was soaked, water was falling on him all day long, and he had no other option.
To make matters worse, immediately following the rainstorms, when it was clearing up, drying up, and getting sunny again, it was time for our appointment to have Flynn fixed which, in and of itself, was a nightmare.
Never mind the fact that he’d been fairly cooped up for the couple of weeks before it, I have never seen an animal bounce back from surgery the way that he did.
How it went was we dropped him off at 8:00 in the morning, left him for the day, and picked him up at the end of it (around 5:00). He was, the entire drive home, just sitting there, drowsy, rocking back and forth, about to fall asleep, and when we got home, he did just that–he knocked out. My guess was that that would be his state for the entire night, that it wouldn’t be until day three or four that we would really have to worry about him becoming active again.
But boy was I wrong.
After what was at most a two hour nap, Flynn pup rallied, taking his toys and spinning with them, throwing them up into the air, running around, jumping on the couch–you get the picture. And it was all to our horror. We wanted to stop him, to keep him from blowing his fresh stitches clean off, but all it would do was make him play harder.
That’s about how it went for the next week and half.
Again, I felt bad for him. It was sunny. It felt good. The weird mild weather that we had during Christmas was giving way to some crisp, cool days and all he wanted was to play outside. But, much to our and his and everyone’s dismay–we just couldn’t let him.
For the next week, we had to do our best to get the energy out through training and other exercises without getting him too riled up. It never worked all that well–he was awake and rambunctious much later into the evening than usual, but, two weeks today from having surgery, he has healed up very nicely–which is weird.
I was sure we would be paying another visit to vet, by my guess, no more than halfway through his recovery, but not only has the outer wound healed up, it’s healed up very nicely. It’s clean, no real evidence that it ever happened, and while he still has internal stitches and could potentially do damage to it at some point, there is a much smaller chance of that than there was a week ago.
Now, finally, he’s playing, getting to be outside, getting to chase things, terrorize the other dogs, and just be his usual monster self. And thank God for that.