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Thursday, November 3, 2005
Today has not been a good day.
I fell last week at work. It was a small tumble down two steps, but I landed hard on my knees. It hurt and it did bruise, patricularly my right knee, but at the time, I didn't think much of it. Today, I'm in quite a bit of pain and I'm having a hard time moving about. I'm afraid I might have underestimated the injury. I made an appointment to see my doctor tomorrow. I left work early and had planned an exciting evening of lying in bed and watching Cat People, but it didn't quite work out that way.
My father's dog, Chica, wasn't doing well. Although she's always been fed and given room to run, my father has been neglectful in other ways. She'd never seen the inside of a vet's office even though she though she developed some kind of growth on her belly. Since the last hurricane, she'd stopped eating and stopped moving much. She looked terrible. I took it upon myself to take her to the vet.
I was a little concerned. I'm not her owner and she doesn't respond to me like she does to my father. She's a big dog, a mix between a Rott Weiler and a Pitbull, and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to control her. My father doesn't have a muzzle or a proper leash, but she looked so terrible; she barely moved. My father had to physically lift her into my car, she was so weak.
Upon arrival, I had to help her out of my car. She was confused and afraid, but we walked slowly down to the corner, to the pedestrian crossing. We crossed the street and went into the vet's office. Luckily, there was no one else there and they took her in right away.
I made the decision to put her to sleep. I would have preferred treatment, but she had tumors, one of which was in her throat. That explains why she wouldn't eat; she couldn't and, in time, she wouldn't have been able to breathe. Surgery was an option, but it's a complicated procedure costing thousands of dollars and she may not have survived it anyway. She was in pain so I patted her on the head, said goodbye, and left. It was hard, but it was a decision that had to be made. When I came home, I found my father crying. We hugged and he told me not to tell him anything about it.
In other bad news, I learned that my cousin severely injured her hand while working out on a stairmaster. It was basically a freak accident. And on top of that, my father's aunt passed away. She was my grandfather's sister and the last of the siblings.
Let's hope tomorrow brings a better day.
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Deaths
I fell last week at work. It was a small tumble down two steps, but I landed hard on my knees. It hurt and it did bruise, patricularly my right knee, but at the time, I didn't think much of it. Today, I'm in quite a bit of pain and I'm having a hard time moving about. I'm afraid I might have underestimated the injury. I made an appointment to see my doctor tomorrow. I left work early and had planned an exciting evening of lying in bed and watching Cat People, but it didn't quite work out that way.
My father's dog, Chica, wasn't doing well. Although she's always been fed and given room to run, my father has been neglectful in other ways. She'd never seen the inside of a vet's office even though she though she developed some kind of growth on her belly. Since the last hurricane, she'd stopped eating and stopped moving much. She looked terrible. I took it upon myself to take her to the vet.
I was a little concerned. I'm not her owner and she doesn't respond to me like she does to my father. She's a big dog, a mix between a Rott Weiler and a Pitbull, and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to control her. My father doesn't have a muzzle or a proper leash, but she looked so terrible; she barely moved. My father had to physically lift her into my car, she was so weak.
Upon arrival, I had to help her out of my car. She was confused and afraid, but we walked slowly down to the corner, to the pedestrian crossing. We crossed the street and went into the vet's office. Luckily, there was no one else there and they took her in right away.
I made the decision to put her to sleep. I would have preferred treatment, but she had tumors, one of which was in her throat. That explains why she wouldn't eat; she couldn't and, in time, she wouldn't have been able to breathe. Surgery was an option, but it's a complicated procedure costing thousands of dollars and she may not have survived it anyway. She was in pain so I patted her on the head, said goodbye, and left. It was hard, but it was a decision that had to be made. When I came home, I found my father crying. We hugged and he told me not to tell him anything about it.
In other bad news, I learned that my cousin severely injured her hand while working out on a stairmaster. It was basically a freak accident. And on top of that, my father's aunt passed away. She was my grandfather's sister and the last of the siblings.
Let's hope tomorrow brings a better day.
pandorasbazaar at 9:50:00 PM EST Blog about this entry |
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This entry has 3 comments: (Add your own)
-
I'm sorry about Chica :(
She was so friendly :)...I mean fierce! Grrr!
How's your knee? -
(((hugs))) You had a very difficult thing to do. What a day... ;) C. http://journals.aol.com/gdire
neoe/thedailies
11/7/05 8:51 AM
Judi
http://journals.aol.com/emmap