*This* close to normal

Just a quick update on Zoe’s progress.

She’s down an eye, which sucks… but everything else about her is normal now.  She’s acting almost exactly like she did before she got lost… she’s doing many of the same things…

Zoe is pretty much back.  The only difference is she’s got a cone around her head and she’s got one eye.  The cone comes off when the stitches come out in a week.  After that… she’s the same ol’ Zoe.

That makes us happy.  Zoe is almost back.  She’s snoring right now.

It’s the best sound I’ve ever heard.

The right decision

Three full days since surgery to remove Zoe’s eye and one thing is clear:  it was the right decision.  And I figured that out within 2 minutes of getting her back.

Last week, I mentioned how her “flap” wasn’t as vigorous as it used to be.  She couldn’t get her head into it.

Now she can.

It’s that simple.

Without the infected eye causing her all that pain, she can now do all the things she did before (albeit with a cone around her head).

It’s still sad to see that eye stitched shut.  I’m still feeling those human feelings  because she doesn’t have two eyes.  But she doesn’t seem to be.  She just seems more annoyed that the cone keeps getting caught on things.  But she’s even figuring that out pretty well.

She’s a smart little dog.  And for the first time since this whole thing began, I feel good about her.

So both of us are feeling better… which has been a long time coming.

Zoe comes home tonight… again

For the second Friday in a row, we’re going to be reunited with an exhausted, injured Zoe.  The only difference this time is that she’ll look up at us with one eye instead of two.

I visited Zoe in the animal hospital last night (Tufts V.E.T.S. in Walpole), and it was just heartbreaking.  She was still groggy and her left eye was gone.  And all I could do is sit there and pet her and try to hold myself together.

I can’t help but feel guilty.  I can’t help but go through the what-if’s.  What if we kept that collar a little tighter?  What if we came home from our weekend away a little earlier?  Could I have done anything after her return to save her eye?

I do know this:  Zoe will get over losing her eye before I do.  I’ve heard from people with dogs who have lost an eye and they all say the same thing… the dog always returns to the exact same dog it was before.  They recover and cope and move on.  But I don’t know how long it’s going to take for me to do the same.  I do know that I’ve got to do it quickly, or else I risk making things worse.

I’m a big fan of the Dog Whisperer… and one thing Cesar Milan always says is “dogs live in the moment.”  Zoe will live in the moment too.  If  we don’t do the same, we’ll be the reason she changes her behavior.

Tonight, I’ll once again scoop Zoe up from the arms of someone I’ve never met.  And once again, she’ll come home groggy and disoriented.  And once again, we’ll set off down this unpredictable road of recovery.  Hopefully, this is the last time.

Zoe’s recovery: Surgery

Unfortunately, things have taken a bad turn for Zoe.  I just got word from the specialist:  her left eye will be removed.

It’s for the best, I’m sure.  I’m told she can’t see out of the eye anymore, so this will avoid future infections.  But I feel horrible about this.  I feel as bad about this as I did when she was lost.

Surgery is scheduled for later today.  We hope to have her home tomorrow.

UPDATE

Surgery is complete.  Zoe is in recovery.  Everything went well.

Zoe’s recovery: Serious concerns about her eye

Just got off the phone with our vet.  Zoe’s left eye is not progressing as well as we’d hoped.

We’re in the process of finding an eye specialist for Zoe.  It’s causing her a good amount of pain… and both we and our vet are concerned about it.

I do not like where this is going.

Time moves too slow for my taste

My wife keeps reminding me that Zoe just came back  home a few days ago.  I need to keep reminding myself of that too.

When I look over at her, I see a dog we’ve had for the past year and a half.  But that’s not Zoe.  And for the first time since this whole ordeal began, I’m feeling pangs of anger.

I’m not angry at anyone or anything, really.  But I’m angry that this poor little dog has to go through this.  She’s a little medical patient right now.  She probably got hit by a car and that’s not something you recover from in a couple of days.  I’ve watched Animal Planet and saw dogs go through much worse and come through fine.

But the magic of editing shows us months of progress in half an hour.  They don’t show you what I’m seeing right now.  They don’t show you the process of getting better.

And let me tell you… the process sucks.

3 Prescriptions

Poor little Zoe.

I know she’s going to make a full recovery at some point, but the process will be a slow one.

On Saturday, she got an anti-inflammatory for her pain and swelling.  Today she got an antibiotic and a cream for her infected eye.

Something is still off about her.  Her typical dog flap thing isn’t quite as vigorous as it was.  She doesn’t like her head being touched… especially around her left eye.  Every so often, she’ll paw at that eye.  She’s got a couple of raw spots on her body from who knows what.

It might take a week… or two… or more… but she’ll get better.  Until then… it’s just going to be rough watching her go through the recovery.

Zoe’s recovery: Signs of infection?

What were you doing at 3 am Sunday morning?

Sleeping soundly?

Grabbing breakfast after a night at the club?

Standing outside with your dog on a leash in a wet lawn on a 40 degree night?

Zoe would normally sleep through the night, but she’s been drinking so much water this weekend that she’s been going more often.   As I watched clouds of my breath pass between me and my dog, I thought about how we got her back just in time.  I couldn’t imagine her out there in that.

I also thought that Zoe was moving a lot better than she was 27 hours ago.  I’m going to guess good sleep and good food have something to do with that.  But she’s still having problems from whatever hit her in the head.

In this picture, you can see her left eye is swollen.  She’s got swelling and bruising on the left side of her head.  In an effort to avoid being gross, I’ll just say that now there are fluids in her eye that have us worried that she’s fighting some kind of infection in that eye.  Tomorrow morning, we’re calling the vet again.  We’re hoping that we’re just getting nervous about normal developments as she recovers.  But we need to make sure she’s ok.

I’m starting to think about what to do with this blog.  I know I want to carry it through Zoe’s recovery, just to keep everyone updated.  Then… I’m not sure.

Vet Visit: Zoe suffered head trauma

One thing we’ve noticed about Zoe since her return last night is that she is a little… wobbly.  Not all the time.  But here and there.  Today the vet explained why.

She suffered head trauma.

It’s possible it happened when she was found.  In the last post, I mentioned how a car had stopped on an off-ramp.  The car that stopped might have actually hit her.  If it didn’t happen then, it happened shortly before then, because during her bath, we saw some of her cuts were still fresh and slightly bleeding.  Her eyes were red.

The vet says she might have a concussion.  The redness in her eyes is from some slight hemorrhaging.  But her neck is fine.  Her heart and lungs are fine.  Everything else about her looks healthy.  The cuts are getting better.  We’ve got anti-inflammatory medicine for her.  She’s moving around slowly, but her energy has picked up a little.

Zoe is getting better, but she’s still fighting.  I’m glad she’s fighting here.

Thanks to all who have sent messages of encouragement, called, or even sent thoughts and prayers our way.  The outreach has been to amazing to put into words.

How it all ended

Somewhere in southeastern Massachusetts, a young girl playing field hockey was hit in the head with the ball.

And that got my dog back.

A family that would have just gone home… or out to eat… or whatever else they did after field hockey ended up at the hospital.  Their wait to get to a doctor was the perfect amount of time.  Their wait to get the tests back was the perfect amount of time.  The point in the night when the doctors said their little girl was OK came at the perfect time.

Now they could take a different route home.

Now they could stop behind the car that had, for some reason, stopped short on the off-ramp at exit 7A headed towards Mansfield.

Now they could look down at the reason why they had stopped.

Zoe.  In the middle of the off-ramp.  Managing to stave off death one more time.  What a little fighter.

At this point, Zoe was exhausted.  She had no energy to fight or flee.  She could only just stand there.

My phone rang at 11:28 pm.  I had just dozed off to the weather report.  It was going to be cold again overnight.  I had just told Zoe to just hang in there one more day, wherever she was.  We were coming to get her tomorrow.  Then… a voice.

“I think I have your dog.”

15 minutes later, we were face to face again.  There, held in the lap of her rescuer and barely able to muster the energy to move, was Zoe.  The search was over.  Zoe was going home… after a million thank you’s and the promise to return and properly thank them for the rescue later on.  Right now, the priority was getting my dog home.

A quick bath to wash off the dirt, a full bowl of fresh water and some fresh chicken later… she slowly made her way to her usual spot on the couch.  She didn’t even have the strength to shake off the water from her bath.  She barely made the short jump from floor to couch.  We took her into the bedroom, set up her little bed and nice warm blanket, and she was snoring once again.

I woke up to that snoring again this morning.  It’s the best bad night of sleep I’ve ever gotten.  She’s still wobbly.  She’s still exhausted.  She’s already had another full bowl of water and a full bowl of food.  In half an hour, she’s going to the vet to make sure she’s OK.

The first two and a half years of Zoe’s life were spent in the hands of disgusting breeders in a puppy mill.  She survived that and came into our lives.  Now she’s survived this ordeal.  She’s a fighter.

But now I hope her fighting days are over.  She’s due for a decade-plus of lounging… nice walks through the park… and warm beds.  She’s earned it.