November

As you can see, I am a bit behind again...
November.... hmmm... where do I begin? It was hectic, to say the least. My emotions ran the gamut and I believe I lost a couple years off of my life because of it.

Let's say that the whole of the month was pretty standard:
-Get up and go to work
-Hate work and count down how many days until the end of the year
-Hate work and count how many days until Mark and I leave for Jamaica
-Enjoy my weekends and dread Sunday night

Now... the last week and a half... not so standard...

The day before Thanksgiving it was gorgeous! It must have been one of the last beautiful days in November- warmish but not cold. Sunny, no clouds in sight. At the start of each school year we have Open House. We don't get paid for it, but as a trade off we get out at noon the day before Thanksgiving. I could not have been more excited! Thursday was Thanksgiving, Friday was Liz Collins' wedding (I shall get to that individually) and Saturday Mark and I were leaving for our delayed honeymoon in Jamaica!!

Otis, my pug, had been kept on lockdown in the house. So, I decided that because it was such a beautiful day I would take my puggy for a much deserved walk. He's such a spit fire! We rounded out the house as usual. Per the regular, once we rounded the corner, he did his business. Otis was in his harness- pugs can't wear regular collars because of their delicate respritory system. I bent down to pick up his leftovers, as a good dog owner should, and from a distance, I hear what sounds like Otis calling to me. I look over and there he is- a good ten feet away from me. I turned to look at his harness- he had gotten out without me realizing it.

I know... I know... just wait for it...

So the two lanes going south had seen his display of magic and had come to a stop- oh, did I forget to mention that this is a 4 lane busy street? He bolted across the 4 lanes of traffic. I was screaming for cars to stop, for Otis to stop, for the good Lord to help me out. When he did this, the people coming from the bank drive thru stopped and the the cars in one of the north bound lanes stopped. The only car that didn't stop because she didn't see what was going on ended up running Otis over.

He headed back towards me, with a big stupid smile on his face. I was screaming for him to stop, screaming for all lanes of traffic to stop... but apparently, the woman on the cell didn't hear, see, or notice anything out of the ordinary. He'd almost made it all the way back to me- but she got to him first.

I knew she hit him. I heard her hit him. He cried out like I had never heard an animal do before. I ran around to the other side of her car and there, under her tire, was his leg. Immediately I began yelling and hitting her car for her to move off of his leg. When she did, it was clear that this was a horrifying wound. She'd screached to a stop on his leg, thus shredding off his skin. The ankle bone was completely dislocated and both bones were sticking out of his leg. She'd taken off two of his nails and opened his leg completely. I picked up my dog and could do nothing but scream, cry, and panic. Now, I'm an emotional person, but I came completely undone with this. I picked up my dog and he was in total shock. He didn't cry, didn't panic. When he heard me carry on, I think he tried to comfort me- let me know he was ok- but other than that- he was quiet. The woman who ran over my dog gave me a ride to my house- just around the block (it was the least she could do). She didn't give me a name or a number. Just dropped me off and took off. Sure she cried and apologized... and I understand it was an accident... but come on... anyway....

Mark was supposed to go to the doctor that afternoon but had cancelled. Thank goodness. I came into the house screaming and crying. He came from the bedroom, saw the blood and meat on my coat, my hands, and then saw Otis' open, dangling leg, and immediatly shot into action. I could not even tell him what had happened- I was traumatized. We got to the animal hospital during lunch time. The doc had gone home and needed to be called in, along with the lab tech ( I didn't know that we had siestas when it comes to vetinary medicine). The guy couldn't have been any older than 27 or 28. He was telling us that Otis would need an orthopedic surgeon to fix his ankle and to make sure that no damage was done to his ligiments or tendens. But, other than a few scrapes and bruises (oh and the hair raising injury), there was nothing else wrong with him. So, $500 later, Mark and I refused to take him to a specialist and called our vet. He's the man! This guy lives and dies for animals. He never sleeps and is always ready to help and heal. He told us he'd been through this before many times and that he would take care of him.

I cried the whole way to our vet's office. Otis, by this time, was on pain killers, anti-anxiety meds, and antibiotics. He was in a twilight.

Dr. F took our boy and assured us that he would fix our dog.

We talked on Thanksgiving. I went to the office to visit him before going to the wedding. And my parents acted as our proxies while we were away. Every day my mother and I would email back and forth with regards for the dog, the weather (Negril 85, Chicago 12), and a general sense of relief. Otis would be fine. It would take up to nine months before he was completely healed, but he would be ok.

When we returned from Jamaica we picked our boy up and cuddled with him on the couch. We visited the doc two to three nights a week with one to two overnight visits. Three weeks later, the doc brought Otis out without any bandages on his leg and it was incredible. The big tear in his leg had still not healed (even at this moment, his leg is still swollen, filled with scar tissue, and is about the size of a quarter) but there were tiny red ribbons of scar tissue that had sealed the length of his leg and paw closed. His nails have just started to grow back and he is still limping. The doctor is sure that it won't take nine months for him to heal because he is a puppy and he is so strong willed (that's a nice way to say it).

But sometimes, I just think that if he'd gotten another three inches she would have killed him. That's what I think of when this boy is driving me crazy!! He's slowed down a bit- but you'd have no idea that almost 9 weeks ago he was in such an ugly accident.

Right now he's under the desk as I'm writing, chewing on his rawhide. Later, he'll snuggle up on the sofa and rest his head on my shoulder so we can watch tv together and Mark will laugh at the two of us. I'm grateful that we can still have these moments together. But we've all got the feeling that he's not done with giving us a run for our money just yet...