It's time to get real. Time to get honest. I'm about to come clean here. I am confessing, to every single one of you, something I do in secret; a hidden part of my life that no one else knows about.
Deep breath.
Are you ready? Will this absolve me?
I really, REALLY spoil my dog. I mean, I am totally, ridiculously, and unbelievably obsessed with Lydah.
In example, let's go down the "fanatical pet owner" list: Treat her like a child? Check. Let her sleep in my bed every night? Check. Feed her special food and mix it with (healthy! good for her!) things she likes and always try to make sure she is both interested in and intrigued with what she's eating? Check. Give her special nutritional supplements to stave off joint and deficiency problems? Check. Let her jump up on and laze around on the couches? Check. Bring her everywhere I can with me; most often letting her ride in the front seat, wearing a seatbelt, hanging her head out the window? Check. Give her little dental treats and toys all the time? Check.
I can't help it. I love Lydah so much. She is like the little light of my life - she's honestly the sweetest, most loving dog I've ever been around, and she acts like that ALL THE TIME. To EVERYONE. She's just wonderful.
And now she's all hurt. She started limping the other day, just a little bit, and we (being the lazy holistic people we are) decided to let nature run its course and see if the limp went away. After all, she's only nine months old. It could easily be growing pains. However, after a few days the limp was not only not going away, but it was getting definitively worse. We made an appointment for her at the vet. The appointment was this morning. I was SORT OF freaking out.
So this morning I woke up (next to the dog, of course), jumped out of bed, got everything we needed, and made it to the vet's office EARLY. Any of you who know me in real life know that this is a rare occurrence indeed, as I am more often than not at least 15 minutes late. Sorry, I know a whole bunch of you just started hating me a little bit. And think - that's not even my worst quality!
The vet told me that he thinks Lydah has torn her anterior cruciate ligament (ACL). The only real solution to an ACL tear, if that is what has happened, is surgery. Okay. So this is totally ridiculous.
I mean, seriously. Think of all the people you know who just get dogs, throw them in the yard (or on their land), feed them cheap, crappy dog food once a day, and that's it. Those dogs live to be like, 18 freaking years old and never need a thing. And here I am, with my precious child-dog, who gets anything and everything and the best of it all, and she's about to need SURGERY? How is this fair?
And I know, I know. Those people who just throw their dogs out into the yard and basically ignore them for the next decade; well, their dogs might have torn or sprained ACLs and the owners never even notice or care. They just see a limp and say "so what? Dog's limping. Whatever. He'll get over it". And then the dog always does. Or maybe he ends up with a limp forever, but you know, then it's just like, "oh, that's grandpa's old ranch dog, he's had that limp his whole life. Think he was born with a lame leg or got ran over once or something," and everyone goes on with their business. So yes, perhaps it is a better course of action to behave in such a manner, as an owner.
The problem, however, is not in the LOGICAL part of my brain, it's in the EMOTIONAL part (aren't they always). I WANT to just take the laissez-faire attitude with Lydah. It's just that I CAN'T. I can't stand to see her in pain, I can't stand knowing that there is something better I could be doing for her, I can't handle treating her like a secondary extension of my family. She's a MAIN FAMILY MEMBER. She's like my kid.
So Lydah's at the vet right now. He had to give her a sedative and she got all wobbly and couldn't walk right and looked up at me with her big, brown, trusting eyes like "Mom? Why?" and it was all I could do not to start crying right then. I didn't, you'll be glad to know. I held it together, because seriously, a SEDATIVE BEING GIVEN TO A DOG is not a big deal. I know this, again, logically. And I'm not a terribly emotional person. But this dog, she's really gotten to me. And if a possible ligament tear in my dog can break me, then I don't even want to know what my life would be like with an actual human child in it.
Good thing kids are so freaking annoying. I'm guessing that helps with the overwhelming love part.
I was raised in a household where pets don't go to the vet. My mom raised the three of us by herself, with no money, and the cat just took care of herself. That was just how it was. And she lived to be 19 freaking years old. Of course.
Now that I have my own cats, I feel like I've become that crazy, overprotective pet owner. I do a head count before I go to sleep to make sure no one accidentally got outside. I buy them toys all the time, I just can't help it. I worry that I'm not giving them enough attention when I travel or work late or go away for the weekend. my mom almost died when I told her i was taking Max in to have two rotten teeth surgically removed, but hey. The vet made it very clear that those infected teeth were going to put him in a lot of pain later, and possibly kill him if they weren't treated. So I did it. And while he was there overnight, I bit off all my nails worrying.
There's nothing wrong with loving a pet so much. As long as you keep a grasp on reality and don't start buying her diamond-studded collars!
Posted by: Operation Pink Herring | December 14, 2007 at 02:59 PM
Oh, poor Lydah. When I FINALLY get a dog, I'm sure I'll be the same way. I hope she feels better soon!
Posted by: Laurel | December 14, 2007 at 03:12 PM
I hear ya, sista. When Elli was about that age, Rocky shut her leg in the car door (accidentally, of course) and when I found out that she was going to have x-rays, I bawled. I've also taken her to the overnight vet for an emergency puke-age because she got into my purse and ate half a pack of Trident with xylitol (which, BTW, two sticks to a 20 pound dog can be fatal). Then because we couldn't afford the overnight observation, The Hunk stayed up all night long to keep her hydrated and watch for seizures.
We throw the tennis ball for hours for Elli. Elli sleeps with us. Elli is family.
Posted by: Dory | December 14, 2007 at 11:36 PM
I am the same way with my dog Bugs. I love my poodle Zoey, but my hound boy Bugs is my heart!!! I've cried before just thinking that one day he won't be here. Is that psycho crazy pet love or what? I'm with you, how will I be with my kids if I'm like this with my dog. BUT HE'S MY BABY!!!! :-)
Posted by: Lindsey | December 15, 2007 at 12:53 AM
Oh no! It's totally understandable to be upset about her being hurt and given the sedative and all of that. Dogs are like children, except better, because as you said, they're less annoying (not that I'm sure I won't love my future unborn kids someday in the far, far future). Anyway, I hope Lydah gets better soon!!
Posted by: Virginia | December 15, 2007 at 02:17 PM
These things are so tough. My dog Goldie is the light of my life and I often wonder how far I would go for her (she's a big dog and she is 12). I am really not prepared for her to pass away.
Posted by: Suebob | December 15, 2007 at 03:13 PM
Well how is she? Did everything turn out ok?
Posted by: beck | December 15, 2007 at 08:15 PM
Ouch, ACL hurts serious bad in humans. Lydah's got such a good mama.
Posted by: Deb on the Rocks | December 15, 2007 at 09:22 PM
I never thought I would become the obsessed with my dog type, but I'm totally there. I can't leave the house without buying him something. It's a sort of sickness, I think, but I love him.
(I hope Lydah is back to her usual non-limpy self soon.)
Posted by: kerrianne | December 15, 2007 at 11:42 PM
i think all of us childless pet owners consider our pets to be our children. you're not alone. i hope everything gets better with lydah!
Posted by: michelle and the city | December 17, 2007 at 09:29 AM
My dog had that surgery. The hardest part was keeping him from going up and down stairs for the required time period and keeping him from jumping up and down from the bed after the surgery. We tried to get him to walk on a foot stool to get up on the bed but he wasn't having any of that crap. Oh and when he had cancer, I spent several thousand dollars having that treated. It was sad.
Posted by: M&Co. | December 17, 2007 at 01:18 PM
I've had more heartbreak over pets than I have over my children. That may just mean my kids haven't given me reason yet. You are a good mom to your baby, no matter how hairy she is.
Posted by: Tina | December 17, 2007 at 10:47 PM
ohhhh, poor lydah!!! heres hoping for a fast recovery.
and if it makes you feel any better, B? yeah, he's spoiled rotten.
whatev, you're a totally awesome puppeh mommeh. :)
xo, bb
Posted by: blogging barbie | December 18, 2007 at 12:37 PM
Your gift has been sent and SHOULD get to you by the end of the week!
Posted by: Secret Blogger Santa | December 18, 2007 at 02:45 PM
Completely understand. I once returned home to find my beautiful Tati (Maltise) with a broken paw. It turns out that the maid had stepped on her and had forgotten to tell me. Needless to say, I went Ike Turner on the maid and fired her ass.
I used to laugh at people with pictures of their pets on their desks until I fell in love with my dog. They are family--I hope your dog gets better.
Posted by: Rita | December 19, 2007 at 11:47 AM
Um yea. This was me about a month ago when my Bailey needed surgery to remove a sock that was stuck in her intestines.
.....
I let her sleep in bed with me too.
Posted by: Julie | December 19, 2007 at 01:26 PM
I have an unhealthy obsession with my dog, as well. Regardless of how many kids we have, she'll always be my first.
Posted by: She Likes Purple | December 19, 2007 at 02:25 PM