2 hours ago
Monday, July 26, 2010
Mini sports her sutures like fine couture
Lest people forget my daze as a professional photographer, that would be Mini's over-the-shoulder, 'bringing sexy back' pose. Yep, she even shaved for the photo shoot! If there was a Studio 54 for dogs, she'd be the queen of the velvet rope, popping more pills than Paula Abdul (allegedly), and weighing less than either of the Olsen twins.
Aside from some poultry hand-picked from Chinese chicken & broccoli delivery Saturday night (yes, she eats off chopsticks), Mini hasn't eaten a thing since Thursday's surgery. That said, she's washing her medication down with honey, and is also taking in more water than the Titanic, so I'm not overly concerned just yet.
As you might imagine, drinking all that water does wonders for a dog with no bladder control, but we're making progress - I've finally, after two days, figured out how to effortlessly (for both of us) help her relieve her bladder. How proud was I when I figured it out? So proud, I woke Rika up at 4:30 this morning and made her come into the driveway and look at the puddle of piddle.
I'll refrain from posting a picture, but you know I gave it more than a passing thought...
So while another person might be worried if the upstairs neighbor in their duplex looked out the window and saw them in the driveway holding their 10-pound dog's backside in the air, wiping her lady parts with baby wipes after a manually-induced bathroom break, well, I've never claimed to be like other people.
A friend of mine emailed me yesterday and said, "if you ever had any concerns about being a parent, clearly you're ready." I never honestly had a doubt, but it is good to know that we can rise to the occasion.
In a lot of ways, Mini is like having a baby.
She's used to sleeping in our bed, but that's obviously not an option right now - not only am I known to throw a punch or two in my sleep (not good for the sutures), but she's also got that bladder issue to contend with. So we got her a playpen that we stationed right next to my side of the bed - Mini lies in bed until I'm done reading at night, then I move her to her to her snazzy, waterproof digs.
And like a child that has nightmares, as soon as her whimpering wakes us up, she's back in our bed until she calms down, then back to the playpen. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
I never claimed she wasn't spoiled. Or soiled, as the case may be.
Spoiled, soiled, and dining on a steady diet of take out... Mini has always been the epitome of rock and roll - even before she got the heavy metal in her back.