“Your dog was rather well endowed.” Is probably not something you expect to hear everyday. This is how my vet started the “your dog is out of surgery ” phone call.
My husband will be bragging about this at the dog park for years to come. “Yeah, the Doc said he had huge balls…Probably the biggest they’d ever seen. I’m pretty sure it was some sort of record.”
“He will need to wear a cone for 10 days. This shouldn’t be a problem right?” Do you even KNOW my dog? Houdini here will be shape-shifting in order to get to his twig and missing berries! We’d be better off having me wear that cone! And with that, let the weekend of fun begin!
Day One: Doggy be trippin’ like whoa.
It might take your dog up to 24 hours to fully recover from anesthesia. Your dog may be disoriented or nauseous. Avoid situations where he might fall off furniture or down the stairs.
Bodhe refused to sit or lay down for 2 hours, he was just standing still, too terrified to move. I can only imagine everything was moving in a time-lapse fashion around him. His little gacked-out brain felt safest to just stand in the middle of the living room and whine. He didn’t recognize who we were or the sound of his own name. So he continued to stand there contemplating what those distorted sounds were that kept coming at him from around the room.
“Booooooow daaaaaaaaayeeee…Coooome heeeeeeere Booooooow deeeeeeeeeee.”
Hours 3 – 5: He only meanders back and forth with prolonged moments of frozen fear every time he catches the cone on a piece of furniture or the floor. He continues to stand in place, totally defeated as if he is just waiting for the floor to just end his suffering and swallow him alive.
Motionless fear gives way explosive moments of sheer panic every time his cone encounters an object. His world is now a canine house of horrors complete with the spine-chilling coffee table, eerie ottoman and mom’s hair-raising unshaven legs.
Maybe he will spend the evening resting… Yeaaah nope! Spoke too soon, there he goes tangled under the coat rack again. Cue the hysterical cries for help from the horror maze that is our dining room table and chairs.
Hour 5 & 6 is spent trying to get him to lay down inside his bed only to settle for that one minute where he laid half in and half out. In defeat, I plop down next to my snoring husband on the couch fully aware that I am losing the war on veterinary drugs. All the while, he is smiling like a dolphin, physically incapable of making a frowny face because he is in fact, miserable.
Hour 7: May sleeping dogs lie. After much commanding, begging, pleading and my clinical emotional breakdown, He collapses out of exhaustion into his bed (halfway in and out of course). I race to bed to cram in as much sleep as possible and dream of satellite dishes and being chased by packs of dogs dressed as evil nurses.
Day 2: Recovery
Please restrict running/jumping/rough housing for 10 – 14 days
I woke up to find my maniacally hyper boy has returned and is sans any fear of his cone. He has found his inner gladiator and using it as a shield while running up and down the stairs and conquering everything in his path. Let the subduing of the 70 lb beast who we can’t afford to have pop a stitch begin!
“Unfortunately, due to his having such large testicles, there is some extra skin. He will have himself a little coin purse.” ~ Dr. Courtney
This is must be the part where the Vet shows her hidden comedic talents. Extra whaaaaaaaa? You mean like a satchel? Great, another thing the other neighborhood animals can make fun of him for.
I can see it now, that gang of geese in the front yard calling him out : “Hey Bodhe! Why the purse? Is that where you keep your tampons?” And then they will be all ROTGHAO (rolling on the grass honking their asses off) and he will be all “Come on guys, I still lift my leg to pee!” Then he shoots me me that look. We know the one. The same look my husband gave me when we decided to do this…a look of how could you!?!?
Thanks to the lovely shave and haircut job in his nether regions, will be forced to stare at what only can be described as a deflated party balloon every time he walks away from me (which is ALL THE TIME). I will spare you the photo of that! Really looking forward to the remaining days of Spring being about waiting for his hair to grow back and shielding him from prolonged staring by the neighbors. What is that? Can they put some sort of pants on him for the sake of public decency?
Day 3 – 10: The New Normal
Spaceman Bodhe has adapted to life in the cone with surprising ease. In fact he even uses it to scoop up his toys to place on my lap for his favorite game of indoor slo-mo fetch. We have cone-proofed the house to save any and all furnishings from its wrath. He even came to work with me today and managed to travel in the back of the car without getting his head stuck between the seats and the ceiling.
So far today he has only spilled his water and food bowls once and ate a mysterious piece of plastic that I am really hoping wasn’t an important part to my computer. He gets cone time off for good behavior while under close surveillance to be sure he doesn’t mess his little “crime scene”.
Today I am optimistic that we may actually survive this. Just as long as that coin purse shrinks up and grows a nice furry camouflage!