On Wednesday afternoon Buddy Wingo and Josephine were running around in the yard – more like racing around – and as they passed a corner fence post, Josie knocked into Buddy and “put him in the fence” (as the auto racing folks would say) right here:
That bolt — which is turned around the wrong way — dug into his side and tore a hole in his skin. That’s his fur still clinging to the bolt.
He howled and cried something awful, so I knew he got hurt.
I packed everyone else inside and ran him to the vet. Well, drove him to the vet.
I interrupted their lunch break, but Doctor Sandra and her wonderful staff sedated him cleaned the wound, stitched him up, dressed the wound, and even loaned him a coat to keep him from fussing with it when they sent him back home.
I replaced the coat with a toddler’s tee shirt (we keep such things on hand for just such occasions and for warmth in winter). With the waist of the shirt gathered up snug and rubber-banded it makes an effective barrier for this kind of injury in a not-too-persistent dog. The wound has been hurting him something fierce, most every time he moves he yelps. So he doesn’t move much. So he’s not interested in fussing with the wound.
I took him outside Thursday afternoon for a fruitless trip. When he came in he plunked his butt down just inside the door and refused to budge. SO I brought him some water and let him sit until he decided that a soft snuggle bed I set up for him looked like a better place to camp.
He settled in there until Marie came home late that evening. Then he NEEDED to go greet her so she could love up on him.
He was finally doing some better by bed time Thursday night. I even got him to go outside to pee. He hadn’t done that (pee — or poop) since before his accident Wednesday afternoon. At first he just stood there and shivered. It was cold and he was scared by the pain. But after a bit (I was being uncharacteristically insistent that he DO something before we go back inside — it had been around 30 hours now, he’s GOT to need to do something) he relented, walked down to the post that hurt him and unloaded what seemed like a gallon of urine on it.
“Take THAT you nasty old fence post.”
Buddy Beagle is doing better this morning. Still hurting but not so bad. No more yelping. We took the dressing off his wound. It had stopped seeping and the pad and bandages had slid down around his waist: not covering the wound anyway. He’s wearing a toddlers tee shirt to keep him from licking it. That’s working, so we haven’t had to resort to The Big Blue Bagel. I’ll hold that in reserve for when he’s feeling more adventurous.
And yes: I HAVE turned that bolt around the other way. And I cut of that other one poking out and filed the end smooth.
Poor lil fella!