Michael couldn't do because Kranky A$$ Turd Dog was baring teeth and snappin at him.
I just cain't imagine why Michael would not want to deal with that. . .
So I get it all ready: warm wash rag, bowl of warm water, gauze, meds. .
Pick him up.
He then realizes what is about to happen. .
The tussle begins.
I put the warm rag on his eye, which he tolerates for a whole30 seconds, (includin the tussle to get it on his eye) and shakes it off.
So I do it again.
Hold his head, look him eye to eyes.
I have to do this. So BE STILL!
That done, flip him over, again another tussle. Head flippin around, legs goin in all directions, body writhes like a stinkin snake.
Finally, get him still and. . .
The stitches closest to the inner corner of his have pulled lose.
We have a gapin
No pupil showin but a LOT of pink.
On way out door.
Here is the conversation:
ME: Hello this is KaLynn Dawson, my dog Scrappy had surgery on Thursday for a protracted eye. The stitches have come loose.(Now granted I talk fast anyway, REEEEALLY fast when I'm upset, but. . . )
Stupid A$$ phone answerer: Scrappy?
SAPA: Last name?
ME: Dawson, first name KaLynn
SAPA: What was your last name?
ME: DAWSON AS IN D-A-W-S-O-N
SAPA: So Ms. Watson, when you took stitches out, his eye came out?
ME: NOOOOOOOO. The name is DAWSON. The stitches BROKE! He is not suppose to have them removed til NEXT Monday!
SAPA: oh, so the eye came out when the stitches broke?
ME: NOOOOOOOOOO. HE..HAD..SURGERY..LAST..THURSDAY..NIGHT..TO..PUT..HIS..EYE..BACK..IN..HIS..HEAD.. THEY ARE NOT DUE TO COME OUT TIL TUESDAY.. I NEED THIS REPAIRED!!!!!!! (YES, I am talkin through clenched teeth at this stupid moron)
SAPA: ooooh. ok.so i'll talk to the doctor and call you back.
ME: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.........I AM ON MY WAY IN NOW! WE LIVE 30 MINUTES AWAY. I WILL SEE YOU IN A FEW........
"click" I hang up. (I'm also REEAL bad about hangin up on folks when I'm peeved. . .and I'm just a teeninsey bit peeved. . )
So when I walk through the door, SAPA is halfway cleaning the table off. (SAPA forgets the dried blood on the front edge of the table. I end up cleanin the table again when she leaves. . . )
She tells me to bring Scrappers in to the room.
Then SAPA looks at the notes from Thursday and says: So I see here that they removed his eye and replaced it with a new orb.
Me: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. (Seems I can't say this enough to this SAPA) The Doc put his eye back in his head and sewed him up. We are hopin he will regain his sight when stitches are taken out.
SAPA: Weeeellll, that is not what it says here. . . .
ME: WEEEEELLLLL, then what is written there is incorrect. I should have brought MY copy of what happened on Thursay because it coincides with what the Doc told me.
SAPA sighs and leaves.
I guess it was becomin purty evident that I was gettin even more peeved the more she opened the pie hole in her face.
Next doc comes in.
Turns out SAPA can't find her a$$ with both hands AND directions.
Nor can she read notes in a file........
I tell him that his eye is still there not removed and replaced.
He says Yes, that is correct. and looks at me like I have lost my head.
I say: Well the girl said the report says that he had his eye replaced with a new orb.
He says: No it says that Dr. Jones re-placed the eye. Not removed it. He just put it back in Scrappy's socket.
I had begun to wonder what I had gotten Scrappers into until then.
Docs know doc language, SAPA's do not.
So he looks Scrappers over and says No Problem.
We can fix AND he can go home tonite. . .
3 minutes surgery, 20 minutes recovery, 10 of which was in my arms writhing like a stinkin snake again.
Heeebeeejeeebeees from that knock out juice. Along with the fact that his cone of shame is tight.
Doc comes out again, looks him over and okays everything.
Tells me to keep on doing what I was doin. I dint do anything wrong. Sometimes they just don't hold. Keep appointment for Monday stitch removal.
Off we go.
With the writhin, snakelike animal that sorta looks like my dog in lap.
I put him in passengetr seat.
He refuses to stay in passenger seat.
So here I am tryin to drive with wigglin, squirmin, head slingin dog in lap.
Finally, I can pull over and loosen cone. AHHHH.....
He has wadded himself up in a furry ball in my lap.
Under the steerin wheel.
Butt on my calf of left leg, hind feet in crook behind knee, front legs over left thigh, and head slung back far enough to break, lookin at me while I drive.
Rode home 30 miles like this.
Him lookin at his Momma....
And his Momma tryin to drive and look down into those eyes of so much love. . .
We get home, go to bed, only to wake up this morning to find that he had wiggled out of the cone of shame.
It is back tight.
None the worse for wear.
Don't care how many times he slings that head now.
mean momma. . ..