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My dog smells and my jeans shrunk

My little bundle of boxer joy had surgery last week to remove a nasty looking cyst that looked like a gargantuan sized red pimple.

Major yukky. I know!

A biopsy was done and our vet reported the cyst was a benign thingie called a hystiocytoma. No cancer was found. ~Whew!~

This was a huge relief to me since boxers are prone to cancer.

Set the worry aside

I’ve been in a state of confusion and worry for two weeks about her health. As I told you before, Rosie is my lifeline and my bestest buddy. She helped me through a serious rough patch in my life and the thought of losing her too early to a disease like cancer sent me into a depressed spiral for close to two weeks.

I am not proud of how I reacted to her medical malady (and frankly, I scared myself about how bummed I got) but I still honor my feelings. I am now ready to set aside the worry and get back to normalcy.

christa-and-rosie-28

Pre-surgery, B.T.S. aka “before the stink”

Smelly Dog, Smelly Dog, its not your fault

First off, Rosie hasn’t had a bath in a week. She reeks. The bandages on her leg are stinkin’, stankin and have stunken up the place. She’s doing her best doggie OCD impression as she licks, licks and licks the gauze bandages.

STOP THE MADNESS!

I know she likes licking but biting off the bandage is not an option. During the 4 minutes I left her unattended on Saturday she succeeding in removing half of the bandage but thankfully, didn’t rip out the stitches. In response to her renegade lick fest I taped and old sock to her leg.

So there!

Rosie, mid-lick, post-surgery, with sock

Leave It

I must have used the dog command “leave it” a hundred times this past week.

Last night as I slept I could here her slurping, pulling and licking. I now know what Chinese water torture must be like. I kept yelling “leave it“. I pleaded with her to “stop it” and barked “you’re killing me over here!” (in a quasi Jewish accent)

It was a classic Calgon, take me away moment.

I am positive my elderly neighbor heard me freaking out through the rice paper thin town home walls. I’m surprised no one from PETA showed up on my door step this morning.

Lesson learned: You cannot rationalize with a dog, even if you use an accent!

I feel bad for her

The poor thing hasn’t played all week. We haven’t taken our long walks. We haven’t had any run-run or jump-jump sessions. There’s been no playing or sniffing on other puppies.

Rosie doing her Jump Jump!

Rosie jumping for a stick, pre-surgery!

The Elizabethan cone doesn’t work. She kept getting out of it. Smart dog or stupid owner? I dunno. I even tried to coat the old sock on her leg with lemon juice hoping she would STOP LICKING.

It didn’t work. She seems to LOVE lemon juice. DOH!

Stir crazy

I’ve been with her almost 24/7 since the surgery date save a few hours Friday (I was so thankful to have the opportunity to shower and socialize with adults). I’ve been watching her every move like a hawk since last Tuesday. I am absolutely stir crazy.

Popping out of my Lucky Jeans

Aside from not being able to walk my normal 2 mile route each morning and 2 mile route each evening with Rosie, in the last few weeks I took up the old bad habit of stress eating. This mainly consisted of late night carb loading and wine drinking (I even drank wine at breakfast Saturday morning).

Let me also confess that I gobbled down my share of cookies, apple crisp (slathered with butter – thanks Lauren), chocolate covered espresso beans, Rice Krispy treats and some other corn syrup chocolate bar with a name I can’t recall (it was a little hard, but I committed to eat the whole thing anyway).

Jean shrinking gremlin

I’d like to think some stranger entered my house, washed my jeans on hot and dried them on high for two hours but I’ve been home the whole damn time. No jean shrinking gremlin entered my home. I gained weight. Oink, oink and major oinkness. Maybe my friend, ex-friend was right when she called me a pig? Um, nah!

Note:  I now feel pretty unlucky in my Lucky Brand jeans.

Rosie’s put on a few pounds too. I did what every Italian mother does when her child (insert dog) is limping and re-cooperating – I fed her too much.

  • Need a treat?
  • How about a bribe to stop licking?
  • How about an empathy peanut butter bone?

I cannot WAIT for the stitches to come out. Rosie and I are both cutting back on calories starting NOW and we’re going to be walking, running (her, not me) and working on reducing the flabbage we both gained this past week.

Oink Oink!

Christa and Rosie, signing off…

 

Comments

  1. Hey Christa, like all things, puttin’ on a lil pudding is fleeting and something you know will change when your pup is ready to go walkies again!

    I know how you feel though, about your lovely dog. My cat has similarly been there for me through all the madness. I can’t imagine my life without her and I worry about something happening to her.

    Even if, y’know, the yogic part of me likes to practice non-attachment, its real hard when it comes to our pets! Especially when they’re such a fantastic support for us.

    The stench is another matter – doggie stench is evil! That’s the good thing about cats… they do a great job of keeping themselves clean.

    Wounds are another matter though – I hope she heals swiftly! :)

    Svastis last blog post..Monday night conversations

  2. So glad to hear that Rosie is doing well! And, as your Italian cousin…I can totally relate to the stress eating. Yet, unlike you, I have no motivation to walk 4 miles a day to take off the extra weight! You go girl!

  3. Ah, but with Italian babes, more size means more curves in all the right places. Jiggle On with your bad self. You and Rosie will help each other back to top form in no time. Just try not to lose the curves. Thin may be “in”, but curvaceous equals bodacious!

    • Update: Back from the vet and the Rose has to keep the stitches in for 2 and a half more days. OMG! I adjusted the Elizabethan cone and it seems to be staying put now. She wasn’t so smart getting out of it before, I was that dumb for not making it tighter.

      @ Carrie – I just met the Weiners and they are fabulous! Matthew McConaughey WAS my favorite male hunk until I laid eyes on Henry!

      @ Svasti - I can always count on your for reason and yogic support. The practice of non-attachment is so important. I am working on that! GIve your cat a pet for me and revel in her non-stinkiness.

      @ Michelle – Haven’t made it though yet but we’re closer. You’re a great puppy aunt to Miss Rose and a big help to me. We won’t see you Thursday….maybe next week!

      @ Mandy – Nice to see you stop by cuz. You might want to check out my Sicilian Zen post and Turkey Stuffed with Ravioli and Meatballs.
      walking every morning is my mental health insurance and my weight control. I think I’ll lace up my sneaks and get out now.

      @ Annie – Thanks for the compliment about the pictures. That’s my friend, Maria’s, work. I’ll have a link posted to her photography site soon.

      @ Ben – Wonderful jigglicious compliment brother! Jiggle On – Good one! More size means less energy for me. Did I already say OINK OINK? Oh, yeah, I did.

  4. JD and Mags, if YOU guys both have the jean shrinking gremlin at your place I KNOW there is something sinister going on.

    If Santa Claus can visit all the homes in the world in 24 hours, no doubt this gremlin has the same technology.

    What IS this technology?

    Hummmmmmmm

  5. I’m so sorry for your puppy. I’d recommend the cone of shame but it seems you have tried that. What about cayenne pepper on the sock?

    I know the jean gremlin exists, he visited my house last night, I’m not pleased but as soon as the snow melts I’ll start walking again. Good for you on 4 miles a day. I can’t take my dog as he refuses to cross the street but I think about him on my walk.

    Jens last blog post..Damn Cat

    • So many of you have asked, in the comment section, and privately, how Miss Rosie is doing.

      She’s doing very well – THANKS for asking!

      If all goes well, the blue Frankenstein looking stitches will come out tomorrow. At least the vet took off the stinky bandages and my Florence Nightengale sock thingie-ma-bobber I taped to her.

      I don’t know what she hated more, the bandage on her leg or the thongs on her head.

      We walked 5 miles yesterday (we both loved it) and again today. She’s playing again and trying to eat her stuffed rabbit (no offense to Funny Happy Bunny Babs).

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