Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Does bad luck come in 3's or 15's?

Last night when I did my usual end of the night "who wants to go out for a pee!" before we all go to bed - I looked at Charlie, and I gasped, and said - NOOOOOO - at some point during the evening, he'd blown his back right ACL - anterior cruciate ligament.

Probably it'd been slowly going over the last several days, but either getting in or out of the car (and I'd noticed he'd tripped trying to get into the car last night), running around at Seaview, wrestling in the living room, or chasing a cat into the kitchen - he'd torn the last part of the ligament off of his knee - and at bedtime last night - he'd stopped using his right leg in the way that very typically shows that the ligament's been torn.

Last May he blew his left ACL and had it repaired in June - now it's completely healed and he's not limping at all and I thought I'd dodged the bullet of his right knee going since it hadn't gone yet. I guess I was wrong.

So off to the vet we went today - and with Dr. Lindsay confirming the diagnosis - he's scheduled for surgery February 14th. The good news is that he's lost another 4 pounds - so he's currently a very svelte 86 pounds - down from his top weight of 120 pounds. You could almost say he's skin and bones! haha!

So the next few months are going to once again be hell for the dogs. Poor Charlie isn't going to be allowed to have any exercise, and Daisy's routine is going to be all torn to shit. She's not going to have anyone to wrestle with. Poor Daisy. And he's going to have people poking at him with physiotherapy, which he totally did not like at all. It is so hard being an old man.

And then today my fabulous 4 poster bed broke - again - for like the umpteenth time. So I'm throwing this $1,000 piece of garbage out in the garbage. Man, I'd rather sleep on the floor than sleep on a $1,000 antique that keeps on breaking. I'm pretty sure that the weight of me, Daisy, and Buttercup should not be too heavy for one bed. To top everything off, I've spent the entire evening tonight trying to figure out why the bed frame I spent $100 on today is only 52 1/2" wide and my bed is 54" wide and what it is that I've done wrong so that they don't match up. I've never felt so mechanically ungainly in my life.

I'm becoming afraid to move for all the bad luck I've had lately, my Dad is getting on a plane to Florida in the morning - I'm keeping my fingers and toes crossed for that one...

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