Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Poor Finn, Happy At Last

Aw, poor Finn McCool. Everything happens to Finn, which is why I have shoebox bins full of vet-wrap and gauze pads and booties and pills and nostrums. This time, it was a new wrinkle.

I’d put the gang down for the night and about an hour later I heard pathetic whining. Came out in the living room to see Finn standing in the middle of the room all hunched over, crying, his left front leg slightly lifted and his shoulder scrunched up into his neck. He was frozen, trembling, in a lot of pain, refusing to move. After checking him all over and moving his legs, I finally got him to take a few hesitant steps, but he was clearly in a great deal of distress. When his tongue ran out and he started panting, the first thing that crossed my mind was “bloat,” and since that can kill quickly if untreated, it was off to the Atascadero Pet Hospital emergency room -- Ca-CHING$$! --in the dead of night.

Naturally, by the time we got there, he had managed to unstiffen and was moving pretty normally. Dr. Hambright checked him all over then took him back for an x-ray of the gut just to make sure. Alas, he was in too much paint to get him to lie flat for the shot, then the computer went kerflooey and would only return one picture. Since that image showed a normal gut, it was decided to give him pain meds and keep him over night for observation, then shoot another gut shot in the morning, which is how I came to miss a portion of Thursday’s Mad Hatter Regional Quality Control Board meeting on the discharge requirements for the Hideous Los Osos Sewer. (Luckily, I was able to make the hilarious “Oh, Atascadero, You Have No Clue The Abyss You’re Trodding, Bwa-hahhahah” portion of the meeting, reported here a few days ago.)

Finn was sent home with a supply of Medicam for pain and inflammation, and seemed to settle down for a day, then he had a mini-repeat when he tried to scramble to his feet, yelped, stopped on his elbows and froze there. I managed to get him up and walking around. But clearly, the problem was still not resolved, so I called Dr. Szabo, the animal chiropractor since it now seemed clear what was happening: Finn had originally somehow kinked his neck. You know the feeling if you’re ever rolled over in bed the wrong way and, Yeeoooowwww! Or if you’ve got a “trick” back that goes kerflooey on you.

So yesterday, it was back to Atascadero to see Dr. Szabo, the pet chiropractor at the Hospital. Her strong hands felt his neck and spine and soon zeroed in on the spot in the neck at the shoulder that had gone out of whack. A few crunches and yelps followed by deep tissue laser treatment and he was good to go. Then it was home for daily ice packs and some daily Puppy Yoga (lateral neck/head movements to keep the neck muscles limber) and bring him back next week for a follow up. But that should do the trick.

So, The Mighty Finn’s once more mighty! And I’m mighty broke. Aw, but whadda ya gonna do.

Oh, why does everything have to happen to meeee???


Alon Perlman said...

It's tougher on the parents.
More on the legand

FOGSWAMP said...

He looks mighty content now, with his ears forward and one leg way out front, painless eyes kinda saying thanks.

Sewertoons said...

Thanks Ann for the update! Yup, some pets just seem more prone to the whacky events than others. I hope Finn McCool has a long, dry spell in this area!

Churadogs said...

Thank goodness, he's doing fine. Will do a follow up with Dr. Szabo, but so far, so good. Finn's problem is he's so heedless -- that racing greyhound blind instinct to be first out of the box, first in front of the hunting pack, kaZOOM simply can't be stopped. Plus, he's all elbows and knees -- built like a cross between a giraffe and a giant tinker-toy, so when he's scrabbling around, until he gets himself righted and gathered together, it's a wonder all the parts don't go flying off into the room. In short, he's an improbable dog, from an engineering standpoint. But when he gets rolling, nothing more elegant, amazing and breathtaking.