My muscles feel tightly bound and rubbery, my hands are still shaking. This morning, I let the dogs in from outside and gave them each a little treat of a handful of cereal. And then I turned around and noticed bloody paw prints on the kitchen linoleum. Sometimes Daisy gets a little cut on one of her toes and bleeds a little, but this was different, this was a lot of blood. And it was coming from Jip. I found the paw he was bleeding from and held a paper towel to it, seconds later, it was soaked through with bright red blood.
In less than two minutes, I called the vet, told them we were on our way, grabbed Jip and put him in his crate in the car. When I picked him up, his teeth were chattering, which made me worry about how much blood he was losing. I have never gotten down to the town where the vet is located so fast. It is usually a 20 minute drive on back-country roads going about 55 mph. Let's just say I drove a little faster than that. I was terrified he was going to pass out in the back seat. I called his name every time he laid his head down and made him look up at me. I couldn't see inside his crate, I couldn't tell if he was still bleeding or not. I could tell, however that he was cleaning and licking his paw. I carried him into the vet, and the vet said that he had pretty much stopped bleeding. He had sliced one of his foot pads open and the vet explained that usually stitches rip the foot pad up more than actually heal it, so he glued the cut and wrapped it in gauze and bandages. They gave me an antibiotic and a painkiller for him to take.
When I knew he was going to be o.k., my surge of adrenaline ceased and left me shaky. I brought him home and put him in his crate, hoping he wouldn't chew his bandage off. I mopped the floor with bleach and dishwashing soap and gave him his medicine. I had to call one of my part-time librarians to ask if she could open the library for me. I left Jip in his crate since the floor was still wet and I wanted him to rest. I finally made it to work a little after 11. I closed for lunch at noon and raced home (I only have a 1/2 hour break and it takes 10 minutes to get home) to check on Jip. He was fine, laying in his crate, and hadn't chewed his bandaged foot. He had kept his medicine down. I let him out of the crate so he could get to his water bowl, grabbed a sandwich and ate in the car back to work.
Quite an exhilarating morning. I've only had Jip for 3 months but he is so much a part of our little family and despite his frequent mischief, I love him dearly. When he was injured, my stomach dropped and I felt jittery with fear for his well-being. I went straight into action, grabbing my purse and Jip and rushing to the vet. When I got there, I realized I was still wearing mismatched wool socks that I had slipped on this morning to let the dogs out. If I had been wearing my pajamas, I would have gone in those.