On Mischa's paw, the little black boot, and the very short reign of the Cone of Shame
A month or so I posted that Mischa had badly cut his paw, and that we'd taken him to the vet to be stapled up. Well, here's more about the awful things that happened to our sweet-natured and beautiful dog on that fateful and horrible day.
The injury was a very deep incision down the centreline of the metacarpal pad on his left hind paw, running from the centre of the pad to its anterior edge. It bled profusely but not alarmingly, just enough to get interesting bloodstains all over various parts of me and the vet's examination room. We got Mischa to the vet about forty minutes after the injury, and she cleaned the wound, stapled it up under cold anaesthesia, dressed it and gave Mischa an antibiotic shot.
Dear Mischa is so good when the vet does painful things to him (and I've had a couple of minor operations under cold anaesthesia and I can attest that it does a marvellous job of reducing the pain, but doesn't by any means remove it). Anaesthesia or no, being held down and stapled through the sole of your foot can't be any fun whatsoever, but our Mischa never even thinks of threatening anyone who's hurting him. He yowls, yes, and struggles and cries and looks utterly heartbreakingly pathetic, but makes never a hint of a snarl or a bared tooth. He is truly a sweetheart (except to Jack Russells).
And the vet gave us a Cone of Shame, and we took it home with Mischa and put it on him.
Dear Mischa; how we love you. But it has to be admitted than you're not terribly bright.
Mischa's first response was to lift his head, and quest from side to side like a SETI antenna tracking for a signal, obviously dismayed by the huge thing we'd clipped on him. Then he dropped his head and tried to walk forward... except that the edge of the Cone dug into the pile of the carpet, and suddenly a malign magical force prevented the poor dog from advancing.
How we laughed. There were five of us there, and we roared and howled and choked and spluttered, and the more we laughed, the more hapless and wretched our poor dog looked and the funnier it became, and we knew we were being cruel but it was just too hilarious to stop. Until at last, in his only possible gesture of piteous and abject appeal, Mischa bellied down and placed his head between the knees of draugvorn, who was kneeling beside him. Even ones as heartless as we couldn't laugh through that. We gathered around him to tell him that he was still loved, and we took the Cone of Shame off him and never made him wear it ever again, on condition that he never try to chew the dressing on his hind paw.
÷
For over a week Mischa was constrained to very short walks indeed, and we bought him some neoprene booties to protect the paw from dirt and damp. The staples came out after about eight days, and the last dressing a couple of days after that, and then he could begin to take proper walks with the boot on. But the callus of the pawpad takes a long time to grow back; in fact, after about ten days it started to die back from the wound, flaking away to leave a vulnerable patch the size of a penny piece. So Mischa has had to wear a boot on his hind paw for over a month. Only now is the callus definitely re-forming, and we're beginning to take him for medium-length walks without the boot.
÷
Basic recovery: about two weeks. Full recovery: about two months. Vet bills and other expenses: somewhere over €250. And I'm going to have very sharp words for the next oaf I see tossing spent beer-bottles into the grass. But our dog is well, and that's by far the most important thing.
The injury was a very deep incision down the centreline of the metacarpal pad on his left hind paw, running from the centre of the pad to its anterior edge. It bled profusely but not alarmingly, just enough to get interesting bloodstains all over various parts of me and the vet's examination room. We got Mischa to the vet about forty minutes after the injury, and she cleaned the wound, stapled it up under cold anaesthesia, dressed it and gave Mischa an antibiotic shot.
Dear Mischa is so good when the vet does painful things to him (and I've had a couple of minor operations under cold anaesthesia and I can attest that it does a marvellous job of reducing the pain, but doesn't by any means remove it). Anaesthesia or no, being held down and stapled through the sole of your foot can't be any fun whatsoever, but our Mischa never even thinks of threatening anyone who's hurting him. He yowls, yes, and struggles and cries and looks utterly heartbreakingly pathetic, but makes never a hint of a snarl or a bared tooth. He is truly a sweetheart (except to Jack Russells).
And the vet gave us a Cone of Shame, and we took it home with Mischa and put it on him.
Dear Mischa; how we love you. But it has to be admitted than you're not terribly bright.
Mischa's first response was to lift his head, and quest from side to side like a SETI antenna tracking for a signal, obviously dismayed by the huge thing we'd clipped on him. Then he dropped his head and tried to walk forward... except that the edge of the Cone dug into the pile of the carpet, and suddenly a malign magical force prevented the poor dog from advancing.
How we laughed. There were five of us there, and we roared and howled and choked and spluttered, and the more we laughed, the more hapless and wretched our poor dog looked and the funnier it became, and we knew we were being cruel but it was just too hilarious to stop. Until at last, in his only possible gesture of piteous and abject appeal, Mischa bellied down and placed his head between the knees of draugvorn, who was kneeling beside him. Even ones as heartless as we couldn't laugh through that. We gathered around him to tell him that he was still loved, and we took the Cone of Shame off him and never made him wear it ever again, on condition that he never try to chew the dressing on his hind paw.
÷
For over a week Mischa was constrained to very short walks indeed, and we bought him some neoprene booties to protect the paw from dirt and damp. The staples came out after about eight days, and the last dressing a couple of days after that, and then he could begin to take proper walks with the boot on. But the callus of the pawpad takes a long time to grow back; in fact, after about ten days it started to die back from the wound, flaking away to leave a vulnerable patch the size of a penny piece. So Mischa has had to wear a boot on his hind paw for over a month. Only now is the callus definitely re-forming, and we're beginning to take him for medium-length walks without the boot.
÷
Basic recovery: about two weeks. Full recovery: about two months. Vet bills and other expenses: somewhere over €250. And I'm going to have very sharp words for the next oaf I see tossing spent beer-bottles into the grass. But our dog is well, and that's by far the most important thing.