Georgie is Fine

Based on the record number of comments (4!) on the post about Georgie’s surgery, I now believe the writing truism that nothing pleases the reading public more than stories about animals and children. Thank you, dear readers, for taking the time to read, comment, and e-mail. I appreciate all of it, and if Georgie could read, so would she.

And now, an update.

She came through surgery like the tank she is, but getting her home was nervewracking. It is not fun to wrestle 95 pounds of semi-liquid dog into and out of the backseat of a Honda Civic, especially when you’re trying to avoid disturbing a whole-ham-sized rear leg. But less than 24 hours later, she is getting up on her own, eating, moaning a bit, and hopefully enjoying the narcotics they sent her home with.

I spent last night on the couch next to her empire of old blankets, and my awesome boss let me work from home today so I could monitor her incision and make sure she didn’t drown in her water bowl. She's already figured out how to deal with the non-functioning leg, and now we just have to keep her quiet enough for the bones to heal and the screws to set. This, to me, is the easy part.

Mowgli, on the other hand, watched the entire procedure in all its gory glory without any problem, but has been very worried about her post-operative well-being. He cringes and starts walking funny when she tripods her way around.

Tonight, it’s couch duty again for me; Mowgli offered to take a shift, but I feel an obligation to her, since I made the decision that got her into this mess. Also, I know it would stress him out if she he couldn’t calm her. She seems to have reserved a particularly keening whine for him; we suspect it’s because she remembers that he delivered her to the vet yesterday morning.