One Gimp, Two Gimp 2

My dog, Max, had been outside fetching a ball, when he returned to me all bloody. How in the world was I going to help him when I was on crutches from a previous sprained ankle?

I found myself grateful for things that helped ease the difficult situation. I was blessed with a well-behaved dog, because he obeyed my command to stay, while I hobbled inside and hopped around for towels. Leaning on one crutch in my right hand and holding my left ankle up behind me, I laid out towels in front of the door. I gave Max the command to come, and he stepped inside.

I searched all the bloody areas on his fur for the injury. I noticed a big glob of red on his left front paw. It was oozing where his claw met the quick (like a cuticle). He must’ve pulled a nail. Now what?

We’d just moved three weeks earlier. I had no idea if we had any first aide products unpacked. I remembered unpacking band-aids, but this was not a band-aid injury. Plus, supplies would be upstairs, and I could only scoot up there on my arse.

Another thing to be grateful for … our cross-country move had landed us closer to family members who could help. Not only that, but my sensational sister-in-law, K was a nurse. Guess what she carried around with her? A first aide kit.

After my urgent call to K, I held pressure on Max’s injury until she arrived. It didn’t take her long, but it was long enough for me to spot a large spider scurry behind my sofa. ACK! I couldn’t get off the floor with Max to kill it, and I didn’t have two legs to catch it anyway. In case I never mentioned this before, I’m petrified of spiders.

The bleeding from Max’s paw had slowed to very minimal by the time K arrived. She went to work washing and dressing the wound.

We kept it covered for twenty-four hours, and Max never once tried to bite at the dressing. Both of us gimped around the house the entire week. We ended up bringing him to a vet who confirmed what we thought and gave him some pain medicine with antibiotics.

A few weeks have gone by now, Max’s paw improved, but he still has trouble with tenderness and bleeding from that claw when he over-exerts. The claw is still in tact, so any dog experts with suggestions would be welcomed.

I’m back on my two feet and no longer limping. I just have some residual pain when I’m on it too long.

Now, to get back to that spider. On the day of Max’s injury, when my husband arrived home from work, I told him to see if he could find that spider.

If you’ve followed along for some time, you know that Gary injured both of his feet fifteen months ago. His response to looking for that spider, “Don’t worry. In this house, it couldn’t have gotten very far. It probably has a broken leg or two.”

Humor Helps.

Have you been able to see the silver lining while handling a predicament? Have you been able to find humor even when it seem like everything is going wrong? What’s your story?

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