As BNL once said, It’s Been One Week. 1 week ago yesterday I was in FL on the phone with a vet in Tennessee begging him to at least try to fix Milhouse’s leg. Last Monday night, I got a call from my mom that Milhouse was playing with Charlie (his brother and BFF) and somehow fell trying to get on or off of my bed. She and my boyfriend (who have both been absolutely AMAZING through this whole thing, they’re my heroes!) took him to the doggie ER and they confirmed a break of the back femur just below the hip. He spent the night at the ER and the next day went to an orthopedic vet.
Tuesday morning, the vet called me and recommended amputation. That was not what I wanted to hear. I wanted my pup to get his leg fixed and go back to running and jumping and playing with his brother. He told me that it was up to me, but he was pretty sure there was a tumor in the bone. Wait. A tumor? What? How could he be certain by just guessing? My options were to go ahead with the repair (which could fail if there really was a tumor present, then they would have to go back in and do an amputation anyway) or choose amputation. I did NOT want to put my pup through two surgeries, but I also really didn’t want to opt for amputation if there was any chance that there wasn’t a tumor. I was so stressed out to try to make that decision. A good friend who works in the vet field and I came to the conclusion that it was ok to ask him to try the repair, but if he got in there and saw evidence that the repair may not be successful, only then to take the leg. We went with that plan. The vet called after surgery and told me that he found visible evidence of a tumor in the bone when he got in and had to amputate. There was no way it could be repaired. It’s weird, but once he told me that, all of my anxiety went away. I was so afraid to make the wrong decision, and it was relieving to me that that there was really only one decision so I couldn’t have messed it up.
I flew home early from vacation (I was so sad to leave- My dad and stepmom planned an awesome vacay, and I really hated to cut it short!!) on Wednesday and was greeted for the first time by my 3 legged pup. I really didn’t know what to expect. His scar looked awful, and he was so drugged up. But he was still my boy. He jumped up on his own for the first time and hopped over to me. I’ve grown quite fond of that little hop over the last week. Almost all of my sadness went away because I realized that I’ve still got my boy. He’s been my baby for almost 13 years and I’m gonna love the hell out of him for however long we have together. I know as lab results and biopsies come back that there may be talk of the dreaded C word, but for right now, I’m gonna love my Mo as hard as I can.
We’ve had some amazing friends come by and visit, bring food, drinks, and be all around awesome and helpful. I can’t leave the house at least for another week or two unless someone else is watching him. Milhouse is getting stronger every day and has had a couple of spills, but for the most part is figuring this walking thing out. His favorite place is the backyard, it’s where he has his best footing. He can now hop the entire perimeter and has even barked at other dogs on walks through the fence to let them know to get off his turf! He is sleeping a lot, but I see little bursts of his personality here and there. I can’t wait for staples to be out (July 5th) and pain meds to be over! Thanks to everyone who has asked about him, prayed for him, or sent him goodies! We love our support system!
Love, Mo and his mama
My backyard is my favorite.
My mom has too much free time. Someone help me!
I’m still cute even when I’m drugged 🙂
