I spent a weekend away from home, a weekend reveling in an emotion I have not allowed myself to really feel for months, maybe even years. I was happy. Yep, me. I felt happy. A smile was on my face more often than not.
If I had to place only one label on those days, they would be labeled JOY.
Of course, I had to return home yesterday. Back to "the real world", but, I was OK with that, I felt refreshed, able to face the challenges of my life as it is today.
Or, so I thought.
Life does have its way of slapping me awake. Pouring a cold glass of reality over my head when I least expect it.
The pounding on the back door rattled the entire house at 7:15. I had just finished my morning shower, when I heard a knocking, that became more and more rapid, soon it was louder, faster, frantic. Just as I wrapped a towel back around myself, I heard Mr. Son answer the door, (I knew, somehow, I knew exactly what I would hear next...sigh...sadly... I was right.) I heard an anxious voice gasp out, "I just ran over your dog!"
Mr. Son was standing frozen in the doorway as I entered the hall. Still dressed only in the towel, I told him to go to her to find out how badly she was hurt. All the while, hoping, praying she was still alive, praying she would only be badly shaken, and bruised. Not battered, nor mutilated, and, oh please...not dead!
As I was rapidly throwing on some clothing, Mr. Son came back to grab the kennel, and to tell me she was alive, but badly injured.
For one so young, or perhaps because she is young, she was so docile, just quietly lying there with her head on our neighbors lap. As I bent down to gently run my hands over her body, her small pink tongue came out and began licking my knee, her long fluffy tail beginning to wag. This little babe, with her rear leg split open to the bone, lay there quietly enduring my attempts to gauge how much damage would be done in moving her.
We were lucky in that she only sustained the damage she did. She has a broken knee (or whatever that would be on a dog), she has approximately a dozen widely spaced sutures running up her leg from paw to thigh. Her other leg, and tail are spotted with minor abrasions. She reacted well to the trauma inflicted upon her small body. My hope is in our staying with her, assisting the veterinarian, that we gave her some moments of calm, and made the trauma somewhat less.
She has a month of torture ahead of her, her leg is encased in a creation known as the Thomas Splint. A most amazing device, that the veterinarian assured us would accommodate her well as the healing process begins. I have my fears with such a wound, so even though he told us she would be fine with no bandage changes (though somewhat smelly), I am going to return with her several times, and request they be changed out over the coming weeks.
She has rested comfortably through the day and evening. She seems in little pain so far. Drinking a little water, taking her medication (wrapped in a cheese slice), and has done quite well each time she was carried outside to urinate. We will be closely observing her as the days go by...I have a feeling this black furry friend of ours... will teach us many things in regard to suffering, and living. I know her frustration level will increase in direct proportion to the hours of inactivity she must endure to heal.
Thus as I passed the day away, my mind was already split in two very different directions.
Then there was...Work. After dropping the puppy off home, I also had to return to work today. More than just work, I had to play catch up, I had to attempt to do both my jobs at the same time, and I don't know if it is the extreme heat and humidity blanketing the Midwest, or the time of year, but the crazies are out in full force, and they all seem to know my phone extension!
A day in which much concentration was in order...a day in which that didn't happen.
A day in which my thoughts were skittering hither and yon...dandelion puffs on the wind.
CD on replay this night~ Eye to the Telescope~ KT Tunstall