1 post tagged “vet”

I know I have an unhealthy love for my American Staffordshire Terrier, Mecca. We all know it - it's no secret. She is my heart and soul, my littlest, brightest star.

I've had her since she was eight weeks old, a chubby little sweet faced hazel-eyed baby with the heart and tenacity of a lionness. Everything I roll through, she rolls with me. Every high, every heart shattering low, she's kissed away tears no one knew I was crying but her. She knows my every weakness, and she loves me nonetheless.

I think I realized just how much she meant to me when she had knee surgery a few years back. Those were the longest three days of my life. I didn't sleep, I couldn't focus. I won't bore you with details, because if you're not in love with your animal, you just wouldn't understand.

Mecca is seven now. As I look at her gradually greying muzzle, her arthritis/hip dysplasia affected gait and her knowing eyes...I can't help but thank God for all the laughter and good medicine she's given me. All our moments of comedy, all the compliments I've been given on what an angel she is. I know they can't live forever...but I don't know if I'll ever be ready to be without her. So this weekend, when she pulled up limp after running to catch a toy, I panicked.

As she tossed and turned and struggled to get comfortable, I watched her. I felt every grunt, every whine, every whimper. I stroked her head intermittedly until she would get into a fitful sleep, and I wondered...if this was is it. Had she broken the leg? Had she done some damage that could not be undone? Was tomorrow going to be the day I had the hear something I don't ever want to hear? I slept 45 minutes on Sunday night, weighing the potential outcomes.

Folks who really know me. I mean, really have peeled back the layers of the onion that is me...knew where I was. So all day Monday, I got IMs, texts, emails, calls. "How's our girl?" "What's the prognosis?" "Heard anything yet?"

My secret heart was especially concerned. He reminded me that it was my responsibility to do what needed to be done - no matter what that was. And he reminded me that he would be there, and that life would go on, if the hardest decision had to be made. Ironic that I wanted to both shove him and thank him for always being the steady hand in the small of my back - even when I've wished I could hate him.

Turns out, those tough decisions didn't need to be made. Mecca was x-rayed, and other than arthritis and an

elbow strain - she's fine. Seven to ten days of bed rest, some anti-inflammatory meds and she'll be in good shape. As her vet said, "she may not be a pup, but there's plenty of strength, heart and willfullness in that old girl."

Amen on that.

My girl is sleeping tonight, after a long day of anesthesia, tests, teeth cleaning, x-rays and general annoyances. She's a little dopey from meds, but I can look over and see that sleepy face peering back at me. And there is nothing, nothing in the world as sweet to me as that little face.

I am going to sleep so well, tonight.