They tried to make me go to rehab...

On a recommendation from Animal Surgical Clinic of Seattle, I scheduled Pooka for an appointment with Dr. L at Sunset Hill Veterinary & Rehabilition Center, thinking we'd add a few sessions of underwater treadmill running to the three-weeks-and-go schedule Dr. A had prescribed.

I should have known it would be more complicated -- and expensive -- than that.

So far, we've had one evaluation appointment and three treadmill workouts, with five more on the books. Dr. L and her staff have measured Pooka's hind muscles and the degree to which she can flex various joints, and taught me massage, passive range of motion stretches and other little exercises that I do with Miss P twice a day. She, of course, doesn't want anything to do with this, but tolerates my poking and prodding most of the time.

The underwater treadmill is neat -- Pooka steps into a giant fishtank, and we seal the front door shut behind her. It fills with water up to her armpits or so, then the doc switches on the treadmill. So far, she's just tromping along at walking pace because she's reluctant to stretch her hips/extend her back legs out. And since you know exactly how much she loves water when no ducks are in sight (hint: NOT AT ALL), it's a miracle she doesn't fight harder to get out. As it is, she plods along with a sour look on her face, occasionally puffing out her cheeks because she doesn't want to pant with her mouth open and risk getting splashed.

I went hiking last weekend and really missed having her on the trail. And I'm officially as bored at home in the living room as she is. And I'm not giving her enough attention. I keep telling her it will be over soon, but since I don't actually know how soon, I feel my reassurances carry little weight these days. We have another appointment tomorrow, and I'm planning to ask Dr. L what the next steps are, and when.

Addition to the list of odd things Pooka likes:

Hunks of frozen spinach! Who knew?

Overdue update

I took Pooks in for 8-weeks-post-op X-rays last week. Dr. A called me up at noon, and when his first question was, "So, how has she been behaving at home?" I knew it wasn't good.

Summary: The screws are loose, and it probably happened in the first few weeks. Flash back to the handful of times Miss P. tried to stand on my slippery floors, only to have her legs slide out from under her. Flop. If, when she starts playing again, they bother her, she will need to have them removed.

Also, the positioning means her pelvis is now more narrow than Dr. A would like, but since she's having no problems pooping, it's not a big deal.

On the side Dr. A didn't repair, the break is still...broken.

As was my heart, in the hours after that call. Guilt, of course, is a common theme on this blog, and I was feeling bad for letting her play in the house lately, for not catching her as she climbed on the couch that handful of times, for letting her walk instead of tying her to the furniture when I wasn't right there keeping her still.

But then I looked at Dr. A's directions, and realized that he's giving me the same timeframe as before. Two more weeks of house arrest -- for a total of 10, as planned -- and then about three weeks to ramp up to the normal level of walks/exercise.

And Dr. M, Pooka's grandfather, wrote this encouraging note the other day, which also made me feel a bit brighter:

She's a young, well-nourished dog, and should continue to heal, and bone union is not an all or none phenomenon. The fact that the area with the screws has healed is excellent. The fact that the area without the screws (and didn't need them) is slower to heal is not a surprise, but I would doubt it's not as if there has been no healing. ... Also, how can you keep a dog inactive, especially a young one bred to run? So feel not guilty. She'll do what she can and limit herself as she needs to. If the loose screws really bother her, they'll have to come out, but that's not nearly as big a deal as putting them in.

Thanks, Dad.

And, Pooka, listen up: One more week of this lame routine, and then we'll be on a whole new plan that will bring new blades of grass to sniff with every step.