Nothing comes for free

The first week of September we adopted a 10-month-old German shorthaired mix as a companion to our beloved, Eleanor Rigby. We figured that it would be good for her to have a companion, a little sister. Besides, Penny was FREE to a good home and she came fully loaded: shots, spayed, dog house and crate, tub of food. A real steal.

We figured wrong. From the start, things did not go well. Rigby was intimidated by the pup, had bouts of diarrhea, leaked urine, hid in her dog house. Completely stressed. But, we figured it would take a few weeks and soon they would be best buds. Well, I'm not sure they were ever best anything, but they did get along better, chasing rings and tennis balls, tugging at ropes, chasing each other around the yard. But, Rigby still was wary of the little rascal. Come to find out, she had every right.

Rigby has sustained a leg injury. A major leg injury. A rupture of her cruciate ligament in her hind leg. In human terms, a blown knee. When the vet gave me the diagnosis yesterday, the first thing I thought of: football and basketball players, sports-related injuries. What? The injury was caused by trauma. The trauma being a wiry pup clipping Rigby as they ran.

She became lame on Tuesday evening and it broke my heart to see her hobble about, whimpering every time her toe touched the ground. Unfortunately, we live in a split level home which means stairs, stairs, and more stairs. Guess we should have bought the all-ground level home five years ago. Rigby could not climb the stairs. Brad had to hook a towel around her hind end and while she scrambled up with her front legs, he held her hind legs up to move her along. This was the only way, after all she weighs 88 pounds.

I confess I don't do so well when Rigby is sick or injured. I'm one of those crazy moms that becomes hysterical and frantic. I'm figuring this is the reason the Big Guy thought it best I not have children. Who can blame him? Brad sure can't after my reactions the other evening. He was more exasperated with my antics than the fact that Rigby could not walk, "Brad, be careful...Brad, do something..Brad, don't touch her leg...Brad, you're hurting her..."

I know. Pathetic.

 So, we made a trip to the vet. I'd asked Brad to help me get her out of the house and into the car, since she was having so much trouble. But, Rigby soon began to figure out that something was going on. She'd been brushed, her leash was out...oh, was that the sound of the car keys? Could it be...yes, WE'RE GOING FOR A DRIVE!!  She hopped right into the car, injury forgotten. Imagine her disappointment when we arrived at the vet and not the park. But, she was still in good spirits. There's nothing like a drive to lift her spirits, her big nose and head hanging out the back window.

But, now she needs surgery and 6-8 weeks of recovery in which she has to be contained in a ground level room, no running, no stairs. No stairs. We may have to move. And, no Penny. The vet recommended we keep them separated for the duration of Rigby's recovery. This is not feasible. Sadly, Penny will have to leave. We contacted her previous owner to let him know the situation and he misses her so much, he wants her back. At least Penny's situation has ended well.

As for Rigby, I'll be scheduling her surgery soon, we'll be modifying the garage as that is our only ground level room, and prepare for 6-8 weeks of recovery. Oh, then there's the physical therapy. In the end, our free pup will have cost us $1,400 plus. Free? Right.