Yesterday started as a nice day. Instead of waking up to the bucketing downpour we've been getting every morning, we had sunshine. While Mr. Wild Dingo prepared to leave for Switzerland for a week, we headed out for a nice long walk to the tree farm where they both got to run free with 2 Northern dogs, Little Wolf (a wolf-malamute mix, who isn't exactly "little") and Dakota (a malamute sibe mix who's recouperating from 2 broken legs). Both are really nice, fun dogs and Loki and Little Wolf enjoyed lots of zoomies and I stupidly forgot to take photos. But I have some great photos of the class 4 rapids under NitWit Bridge that we'll share tomorrow. For now we'll share the bit of drama that occured after our hike.
When I got home, I decided it was time for yard chores since the rain didn't let up for several days. Time to clean the dog yard, take down the trash cans and other boring stuff. I let the dogs zoomie around the fenced-in yard while I did chores.
When I'm ready to go in, I call Loki first, because Juno is so packed onto him and he is packed onto me, that's usually a great way to get her to bend to my will. Booowhahhah. So Loki runs in toward me first.
Juno knows we're headed inside, so she likes to take her own path and goes down the back hillside, full throttle, where she barrels into the porch and dunks her snout into her water bowl. It's her favorite "calming" activity when things are "too excitable" for her.
Note that we don't have landscaping "yet" after 2 years of living here because we're still working on other projects, like the rest of the gingerbread you can see going up on the left side of the photo (the unpainted arch in the porch). Some day, when we get back from Europe, we'll have landscaping. It's one reason why I want to leave so badly, just so I can see some green grass and not work on any more house projects for a few years.
When Loki and I got there, I gave him his treat and was about to give her one when I saw her limping. It looked like her paw had a stick stuck in it. So I tugged at it. It didn't budge. I ask her to sit and she does. Juno hands me her paw instantly without me asking for it. So I tug at the "stick" harder this time. She YELPS. I've never heard her scream in pain ever. So I looked under her paw and saw this:
Yup. it was a nail. I couldn't see the nail head from the top of the paw because her fur and other pad hid it, and the sharp end really looked like a stick to me. It didn't even feel like a nail when i touched it. It was dark and rusty.
Naturally, I panic. I'm still in sweat pants from our walk. I haven't brushed my teeth or my hair and I'm full of mud. And I'm panicking like a crazy lady. Juno on the other hand is walking around, tail high with a big smile on her face. Damn sibe. She's either stoic or stupid. I'm voting for stoic. I call Dogtor Hillary and they tell me to bring her in. Mind you, I'm actually 2 minutes away from a vet near my house. But we LOVE Dogtor Hilary and don't mind the 25 minute drive it takes to see her ever.
When we drove up, the staff was outside waiting to assist in helping Juno to the door, if they had to pick her up. But Juno jumped out of the car and pranced in like nothing was wrong with her nail in her foot. Juno was just at The Whole Pet Vet spa the day before getting her accupuncture after her usual PT. And here she was again. She told Dogtor Hillary, "I really love my accupuncture and wanted to try my own home version of it!"
Dr. Hilary shakes her head and tells Juno this needle is not suitable or standard for accupuncture. However, if she is really good, she can now get a pedicure instead, since she's here. It sounded like a good idea to Juno, so she willingly walked to the back with the whole staff, feeling like she was about to get star spa treatment. You know the kind of spa treatment where there are 5 people "working" on you at once. She was unsuspecting of what was to really to come. You know she's a Sibe. It's in the Siberian Owners manual that lying to them in certain situations is mandatory because they are too smart to handle the truth.
The nail was dug into the deep hard part of her pad so local anesthesia wouldn't do. They had to pull out the heavy duty drugs.
"Dude, I think I like pedicures. I'm floating and seeing hunky malamutes adoring me with meaty bones."
Notice the wire cutters. Dr. Wheeler is a thinker and cut the rusty nail short so she didn't have to pull it all the way through her pad. She flushes the open wound.
Oh that was fun! Lets do that again! Lets see how far we can shoot saline through this hole in her pad!
And what kind of cool doctor do you have to be when I shove my camera at her staff and say "take pictures?" We love the entire staff at The Whole Pet Vet! They rock!
Post Op: "Um, I'm not so certain this was a standard pedicure. After all, only one of my paws was attended. Gheesh."
Mallory, one of the vet techs at the at The Whole Pet Vet is very creative and used an old IV bag and guaze tie to protect to protect her bandage from getting wet and infected. She's sent home with a bottle of antibiotics (the new treatment for rusty nails rather than tetnas shots). Juno walks just fine with her contraption on her foot. Geez, I just stopped giving her a long round of antibiotics in December for her mysterious illness in November.
I was so proud of my stoic little angel. She never cried once. Until we go in the car. On the way home, she didn't stop whining. And at night she paced and whined and did this a lot:
"Mom, look at this paw! It's appalling! They called it a pedicure! But they turned it into a pink monster! All the other Sibes will make fun of me!"
So I broke down and gave her one of these:
They're called "Wolverines." I can't imagine why. Don't they look, um, delicious? I just bought them on Thursday from Loki's new private trainer (who I'm using to train other specific behaviors). She sells raw foods and some neat treats. I've never seen these before so naturally, I had to have them. I was saving them for a special occasion. I guess this was as good as any.
"I'm so upset about Princepessa's paw. I cannot eat." (Don't worry, he got over it quickly.)
"I guess this will do. For now. Nom. Nom. Nom. If you don't want yours Retardo, I'll eat it for you."
Any readers out there keeping a tally on how much this dog is driving us into the poor house? Let me re-cap:
And I don't think I have to list the digging, the mini-cooper eating, the dozens of shoes chewed up, mail fraud, more digging, furniture destruction, house molding chewing, yoga-mat nibbling, blue-tape gnawing, sleeping-formosan-dog-disturbing and her hundreds of other costly habits that send us into the poor house.
Lets just say there are a few things that redeem this pup:
"Don't woo know by now that charm and naughty are two sides of the same coin?"