Milestones

Pooka and I just got back from one of our old walks, up the big hill and to the north, looping home, logging almost an hour of trotting along. An hour! This little pup has come so far, to go so far.

After a good session on the underwater treadmill last weekend, in which Dr. L noted longer, more natural strides, we got the green light for unlimited leash walks. I'm hoping she connected with Dr. A at the surgical clinic to discuss the pros and cons of taking out the screws sooner (before she hurts herself playing, though we don't know she will) versus later (once she's already run around like a maniac and ands up in pain).

In other good news, Dr. L also gave the OK to put away the crate and let Miss P. while away her solitary days on her favorite sofa cushion or rooting around in the kitchen for overlooked morsels. Our bigger, better, collapsible wire crate is folded up, the sofa is back in place, and I've reclaimed my living room. This feels so...normal.  

We've also reinstated one of Pooka's favorite activities, the "Chase me around the living room sofa while I carry my favorite toy of the day, then reverse direction, repeat." I have been taking it slow so she doesn't wipe out on the slippery bits, and she seems stable enough for it.

Tonight she tried to grab the squeaky tailless squirrel toy from the floor as she dashed past me, and missed. A few strides later she realized her mistake, but too late! I had snatched up little tailless squirrel and was holding him over my head, cackling. Is it possible that I take this game too seriously? I did relinquish squirrel and the order of the universe, in which Pooka has the toy and I do the chasing, was restored.

Of course, things with this animal are never easy. She has an unexplained, festering boo-boo on her tail that requires wrapping, antiseptic goop and a stint with the conehead. She also has a bumpy, hair loss-inducing  dermatitis of some sort on her inner forearms which yet another vet thinks is an infection sparked by itching and irritation from an allergy. An allergy to what, you may ask? Well, it could be flea bites, even if she has no noticeable fleas. So we flea-treated. It also could be a food allergy, so I'm gearing up for the idea that I might have to put her on a strict hypoallergenic diet for 8 weeks to see if that does the trick. My poor itchy baby -- every time I see her stop what she's doing to sit down and have a mad scratch at her ears or her chest or her neck, I cringe knowing that it might be a discomfort I've inadvertantly caused.