Black Doggerel

I was really, really hoping Spike's energy level would keep pace with his healing; but I admit I didn't really expect it.

Today he's climbed his first tree since the surgery, actually managed to pick up a stick (it was a bow-shaped one, and he spotted the opportunity to seize it by the raised part a split second before I saw the need to stop him) and grab hold of the leash in an attempt at leash tuggy. He dropped both leash and stick instantly and he hasn't bashed, bust or split anything - I checked very carefully.

still. holy shit. I really hoped he was going to stay chilled a little bit longer than this.

( Your daily Spike under the cut )

Yesterday he tried to pick up a stick off the ground so he could bounce at me with it. The cone stopped him, which annoyed him no end, but it makes me so happy that he's trying.

He's eating competently and voraciously now; he lost a bit of weight during the cancer shenanigans and he's very keen to put it back on. I am still handfeeding him; he hasn't bitten off any of my fingers with his still perfectly serviceable back teeth yet but I won't be TOO massively surprised if when he does.

What the hell, I've got ten. In fact, he CAN eat out of a bowl but not very easily, and not without mashing a lot of dogfood into his stitches, so I'd rather handfeed for the time being.

He doesn't (yet) quite have his old energy levels back. I don't know how much of that's because of the pain meds (he's still on two Tramadol a day) and how much is because of the shock to his system and his body needing those resources for healing, but I won't be too sorry if he stays this way for a while. He's not listless or anything; there's plenty of bouncing and joy and tail wagging and he met up with his friend Billy today for some dancing and playbowing. But he isn't back to psycho hosebeast mode yet either; he's quite happy to chill out on the couch with one eye on the cat in between walks. This is probably just as well.

I was worried last night because I had some trouble getting food down Spike - he was willing enough but it seemed very hard for him to get the food where it was supposed to go. He was trying to eat as though his face were still there and it wasn't working; his face, me, the floor and the inside of the cone collar ended up covered in a layer of salmon, prawn and rice sensitive-stomach dogfood paste.

How do I not have baby wipes or cotton wool in the house? I ended up rinsing out my own facecleaning cosmetic wipes in hot water and using those. Must get baby wipes or gentle petwiping wipes today, somehow.

He threw up the small amount I had managed to get down him (though not, luckily, the painkiller), causing me to phone the vet in a panic at 8pm. This is how good these vets are and why you will not EVER hear me complain about their prices; they're manned 24/7 and although there wasn't an actual vet working at the time, the nurse tracked one down by mobile phone and got her to call me back at home. They told me not to worry unless he kept puking today.

He woke me up by climbing onto the bed and rolling on me, cone and all. It's the best wake-up call you could imagine. He's also apparently been thinking the food thing through overnight; he had the hang of it MUCH better this morning and has eaten nearly half a packet of the salmon/prawn/rice. Got another Tramadol and the prophylactic antibiotic down him with no trouble, and judging by the comparative lack of snorking, sneezing and drooling this morning, it all went down the right way and won't be coming back up.

He's also already mastered gauging the width of doorways by the span of the cone and not his body, and the art of walking upstairs without catching the edge on every step. Did I mention that my Spike is a clever bastard? Did I?

Freaked Squish is freaked. Spike is home. Post-surgical Spike pics under the cut.

( And I'll be your comfort and your ease; you can still depend on me )

He is coming round from the anaesthetic, and the vet says it went very well indeed. I should have him back on Monday.

I don't get to keep the teeth because the entire resected part has to go to the path lab and be treated with formalin which makes it toxic so they can't save any of it. This is so the path lab can confirm the diagnosis and double check that the margins are clear and Mouth Thing is dead for good and all. I did rather want to hang the teeth on my necklace, one each side of my tiger's eye circle, but hey, I get my dog back so I don't really care about that.

Cassie is going batshit bored without him and driving me crazy in turn, but we'll deal.

Thank you all for commenting and being all-round awesome. I've been a bit too frazzled to answer each one yet but I've read everything

I GET MY DOG BACK OMG YAY!