I had meant to post today about the limbo that is infusing all of my life right now, but that post has been deferred to tell you all about my dogs.
When I got Gracie, she was an only dog. It was her and me against the world, even if that world was a big, scary place with unnerving noises made by plastic bags. When I got Maddie, the kitten, Grace enthusiastically raised her to full cathood complete with dog snuggles and dog-dominance behaviors. When Max, the full-grown cat arrived, Grace was instantly smitten. But when we brought home Phoebe, then a very small black puppy with a big attitude, Grace was in heaven. Everything in her was about protecting and raising Phoebe. She kept other dogs away, she taught her how to play/fight, and they made up all kinds of games together. Even when Phoebe outweighed her by a good fifteen pounds, Grace was still determined to protect her baby.
When Phoebe was about a year old, they had the requisite two months of intermittant fighting to decide who got to be the alpha grownup. Several involved flying blood, and the worst one happened at midnight when I was home by myself. In the end, Phoebe won, which was no surprise given her size. What was a surprise was that several days later, Phoebe was well and truly wigged by dominating Grace, and she gave it up.
In the intervening time, nearly two years, Grace has reinforced her dominance by eating Phoebe's food, by humping her, and by being chief ass-sniffer. Phoebe has put up with all of it, with the exception of being humped, which she deflects, often, by sitting down. They play-fight frequently, dragging one another around the living room by the collar. They love each other and freak right out when one of them escapes the yard or one gets to go on a walk without the other.
Lately, however, Phoebe hasn't been feeling well. Both dogs went through a period of limpy paws and licking at their pads; the vet suggested that they were having some allergies and prescribed an antibiotic to treat pawpads that had become raw. Grace's paws cleared up eventually, but Phoebe still had one that bothered her. We checked it again and again, but it never looked red and we couldn't feel anything wrong in her leg.
Cue last night. Phoebe has gotten limpier, and less willing to deal with Grace's dominance behaviors. Grace tries to hump her and in the process, jostles the bad paw. All hell breaks loose and they fight for twenty minutes straight. Ms. P tries dumping water on them, which doesn't work, but other than that we know better than to get in their way. When they finish, Phoebe won't put weight on her foot and Grace looks like she's a prize boxer: bloody, swollen, and sticky. We can't tell if Phoebe won or if we just got them to cut it out during a time out for panting. We wipe them down, cry a little, smear antibiotic ointment on Grace's cuts, and blot blood out of the beige carpet.
Gracie always gets the worst of these things. Phoebe has a very thick coat, and she's wide in all dimensions, so it's harder for Gracie to injure her. Gracie, on the other hand, has a thinner coat and is all-around more delicate, so every fight leads to lacerations. This time, it led to a split ear in addition to several deep bites on her head.
This morning we're up at 5:30 when Phoebe launches a warning growl at Grace. We wait, Ms. P napping, until the vet calls us back with appointment information; we can't have them seen together, because we're scared to put them in the car together, so this is necessarily an all-day affair. Gracie goes first, gets her cuts shaved and treated and gets both antibiotics and painkillers. We bring her home, and she immediately attacks Phoebe. This fight is much quicker but much fiercer; it ends with Grace on her back and more blood on the carpet. We separate them, putting up a babygate that separates the house into upstairs and downstairs with a door to the outside in each. Grace goes outside and doesn't come in for a long time.
When we finally get to take Phoebe to the vet, we find out that she's torn her ACL. It's not all the way torn yet, but it won't really heal, either. All we can do right now is give her anti-inflammatories and joint pills, save money for the eventual knee surgery she'll need, and pray to everything holy she doesn't tear it the rest of the way right away. She has a very stylish splint that includes a girdle wrapped loosely around her middle to keep her knee from getting worse. We're supposed to keep this on her for three weeks, if possible.
So, we spent $450 at the vet today, we're looking at another $2000 for the knee surgery, and I don't know if the dogs have worked out their issues. Everything I read about canine rivalry says they have to work it out and you have to support whatever decisions they come to, but we aren't clear whether they've actually come to a decision or only a resting spot. I can't see putting them back together yet, not with Phoebe in such clear pain, but I don't want to exacerbate the alpha-dominance issue, either. This vet, who is the best we've found so far, has a terrible bedside manner and referred us to an animal behavioralist for the fighting. None of this helps us figure out the next few days.
For now we're keeping them separated, which involves Gracie coming to the babygate every so often and crying. Phoebe is curled up on a sleeping bag, and I hope the painkillers are doing their job. My babies are both injured and freaked out and I'm not sure how to help them. Ms. P and I are emotionally exhausted, on top of the simple lack of sleep I'm having from post-surgery effects, and we're having trouble seeing our way to anything other than putting one foot in front of the other. I told her at lunch that this is how October was every single day. This isn't October and it will get better much faster than October did, but I am not looking forward to the rest of this week.
Oh, so sorry.
Posted by: dale | May 22, 2006 at 07:40 PM
yuck. yuck. yuck.
Hurt pets are the worst :(
Posted by: art-sweet | May 22, 2006 at 09:10 PM