My dad picked up Rufus from the vet yesterday, brought him to our house, and stayed with him all day until Amy got home. After Wednesday’s surgery on his back right leg, during which he had two drains attached to his wounds, Rufus has to stay in his crate till the weekend (except for bathroom breaks). This is so he doesn’t move around and stretch too much, which could lead to his sutures getting torn.
His bandage is starting to slide down a couple of inches, so I’ll have to get some sorta adhesive wrap at the drug store this morning to keep the area covered. I’m going to move my desktop computer downstairs soon so I can work on page layouts and keep him company (and make sure he doesn’t try to lick his wounds).
He’s on antibiotics and pain medication; Amy gave him his pain meds last night about 40 minutes before I got home (despite a 65-minute flight delay, I made it back from Atlanta last night a mere 40-minutes late, zoomed off the plane with my carry-on, and did my best not to speed too much on the drive back). Much like I felt after my demerol injections in the days following my knee surgery (summer 1991), Rufus seems to think that he can go back on the track anytime, once the pain meds kick in.
Shortly after that, his eyes roll back in his head and he gets a little fuzzy about who’s whom.
The vet will check out how his wounds are doing on Saturday, and will let us know if it’s okay for him to go up and down stairs. If not, we’ll move the guest bed down to the basement, so we can sleep down here till he’s ableto join us upstairs. Don’t give me guff about this.
Anyway, the upshot is: the surgeon was optimistic about Ru’s recovery (I’ll have to talk to the vet to make sure our definitions of recovery jibe), I’m back home, my dad stepped up way beyond my expectations, and my wife remains the most wonderful person in the world.
Oh, and I’ve gotta check in with the local police to find out what’s going to go on next with the Aggressive Akita (I misidentified the breed).
And Ru just started snoring. Shh.