Damn it, Elliott.

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Welp, this is it. Home sweet home.

Photo Credit: Yours Truly

Greetings, fellow readers! I’ve been a little MIA with the whole writing thing. I guess you could say I haven’t been super inspired to write about anything. There were a few days where nothing really exciting happened, other than the typical trip to the grocery store. Riveting life of a housewife. I guess when you get to the point where you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen the sun, or when the last time it DIDN’T rain, you fall into a mini-depression. Don’t worry, I’m not in need of any Zoloft….yet. I will do my best to get in the habit of writing more frequently. Here is the review of “life in Sitka” the last couple weeks:

After a painful (almost) two weeks, we FINALLY received our stuff from Douchebags of the Sea. We were told that we would be able to pick up our things between 4pm and 5pm on Monday, January 14th….or so they said. Finally at 6:45p, they were JUST unloading our cargo trailer. Efficient. Timely. Awesome. By the time we actually got home, we were dying to unpack. Our main mission: Unload the bed. We couldn’t possibly spend one more night on an air mattress with a slow leak. But in order to get said bed, we had to sift through 75% of the cargo trailer before we even got to where the bed was stored. What’s better than unpacking a trailer after dark? Unpacking a trailer after dark in the rain. Box after box, plastic tub after tub, we finally got it. Halle-fucking-leujiah. Finally, a good night’s rest….not quite.

I went into full nesting mode. I stayed up until 2am unpacking and putting things away. I spent the next 3 days cleaning, unpacking, organizing and “making a home.” I absolutely detest packing and moving, but I’m one of the weird ones who loves to put things away and organize. I have NEVER in my life been happier to have a vacuum and a Swiffer sweeper. Can you say OCD?

The rest of the week was pretty uneventful…until Saturday rolled around. We took the dogs for a walk. Fin and El were doing their normal exploring. Fin was searching for sticks to play fetch with while El was running a million miles an hour, back and forth, up the hill, down the hill, jumping and bounding over everything. We walked for a while and started to head back because it was too cold. As we were heading back to the car, C-money (We’ll call the hubs that to keep the anonymity.) thought he saw blood, so he called El over. Sure as shit, she was bleeding profusely on the bottom of her front right paw.

{Insert Irony: We had JUST discussed the following prior to the injury — C-money was trying to keep the dogs contained and kept calling El back to us because he was worried she would get hurt again. (A month and a half ago, she had to get multiple staples in her leg due to a large cut she got exploring in the woods. She was in a cone for 2 weeks. It’s all fun and games until someone ends up in a cone…) I told him, “dogs will be dogs” and to let her go explore. Yep, I’m the asshole.}

He picked her up and carried her for the remainder of the walk. By the time we got back to the car, we took a bottle of water to flush the wound to see how big of a puncture it was. No matter how much water we poured on it, we could not see the wound because it was bleeding so bad. We wrapped her poor little foot in a towel, held it tightly to keep pressure on it, put her on my lap, and we hauled ass to the vet.

First off, we’ve only been here for less than 3 weeks. We don’t know any vets. Shit. We don’t even know where the vets are located. Double shit. We then remembered seeing a vet’s office on one of the main roads through town. Coming to a screeching halt in their parking lot, C-money jumped out while I stayed in the car with Tiny Girl. We called all the numbers they had listed. Nada. At this point, we didn’t know what to do because we couldn’t get a hold of anyone because it was SATURDAY. Triple shit.

We headed back home to see if we could bandage it ourselves to keep the pressure on it. We laid some towels on the island in the kitchen and propped Little up and started to bandage her foot. We looked in the phone book and called the ONLY other vet in town. VICTORY. We got a hold of someone and they said they could meet us at the vet’s office in 30 minutes. PERFECT.

By the time we got there and got into the “exam room” I was a nervous wreck. Seeing all the medical equipment, etc. and hearing the person talk about sedation, opening up her wound to locate the bleeding, saying things like, “I’m trying to find the bleeding…”, “I can’t get the bleeding to stop…”, “Wow, I’ve never seen a bleeder like this…” made me a big ball of disaster. I couldn’t stop crying. C-money was getting dizzy and needed to step outside so he didn’t pass out. He went and checked on Fin in the car and then came back in and sat next to El. I stood there with my head buried in the blanket on top of her, with my hand on her chest to make sure her heart was still beating and she was still breathing. It took the lady a while just to stop the bleeding. The actual puncture was pretty small (only about 1/2 inch), but ended up being almost 2 inches long because she had to open it up to locate the bleeding.

When she finished getting El all stitched up and bandaged, it was time to do the reverse and wake El up. She injected the drug and after a couple minutes, she was more alert and started to wag her tail….then she starts to whine and yelp with pain. The lady didn’t give her any pain medication because it can slow down the wake up time. At this point, I’m freaking out because she needs some pain medication. She’s flailing, whining, and yelping in pain. I start crying again. She gives her the pain meds and after a few minutes, the flailing stops and she starts to calm down a little more. Jesus H. Christ, I can’t take this shit anymore.

Time to go home. We loaded Gimpy up in the car on my lap and headed home. It seemed like an eternity at the vet’s office. By the time we got home, we were exhausted. I fell asleep on the floor next to Elliott on her dog bed and C-money fell asleep on the couch. At 7pm, no less.

That night, I laid our Tempurpedic mattress pad from the guest room on the floor next to our bed with the dog bed right next to me. I slept on the floor for the next two nights to make sure she didn’t get up in the middle of the night. Fin was a great big sister and kept checking on El to make sure she was ok. She would lean in and smell her or give her a lick.

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Photo from my BlackBerry

Warms my heart…

That makes TWO visits to the vet for El in the past TWO months. Let’s hope the rest of 2013 is vet free for the both of our sweet girls because one thing is for sure, Momma Bear can’t handle any more traumatic vet visits.

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One thought on “Damn it, Elliott.

  1. judy says:

    Please tell old c money i love him for loving you through your traumas! For someone who didn’t grow up with a sister he’s doing remarkably well!

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