No lie -- all y'all, I have gotten some of the most wonderful email messages these past couple days. I have gotten messages of comfort and reassurance, advice on soap to use on the dog bites, advice on state laws (according to two writers, we did nothing wrong. The dogs were leashed & collared. That's perfectly legal in the area we were in), advice on what to do for "physical therapy" for Jack.
I've gotten the "I have never been through this so I don't know what to say but I'm praying for you and hoping for the best" kinds of messages. I've gotten "we went through this when..." messages.
Folks, damn! You make me feel so much better about what has happened, and are a wonderful source of inspiration and love. Perfect strangers offering their hearts and support. I am overwhelmed and awestruck.
Each of you who've written me, and those of you who have not but are thinking of us -- thank you. Gah. What else can I say... thanks. Honest. I'm blown away.
The update is pretty much this -- since the incident on Sunday, Jack's spirits are high, he's walking but struggling.
His wounds are healing. Anyway... he's not falling nearly as much, and his will to try and run or play is back. Which to me is the best sign.
He's up to his old tricks in the form of chewing up plastic toys Geoff leaves around, so I've returned him to daytime kennel living. I come home at lunch and take them both out and get some fresh air, food and sun.
He is still pathetic and sad looking. Doesn't jump up when you walk into the kitchen, thinkin' it's treat time. Instead he stays on the couch, watching intently to see if a goody will be brought his way.
There's a lot of lovin' going his way. He's smothered in it. Geoff tucks him in with a blanket on the couch and cuddles with him. I tell him not to lounge on top of Jack, to restrict any pressure on him... but he can't resist sticking his head on Jack's back and hips and using him as a furry pillow. It's very cute and Jack seems not to mind.
Kinger is depressed.
He is used to Jack's antics, and wants to play tag and run and play. So he keeps "tagging" Jack and taking off, and when he gets on the other side of the dog pen or the yard, he turns to look and Jack's still standing by the deck. So he barks, hoping that'll egg Jack on.
He'll tag him one or two more times, Jack will try and run a bit, but we stop him because the vet doesn't want him doing anything overly strenuous, and this game is quite.
So the King has been mopey... I feel badly. Jack's spirits are fine, but Kinger's playmate is out of commission... poor thing. I had him swim in the creek yesterday and threw sticks for him, so he'd have a play mate, and he really enjoyed that. But I know he misses his partner in doggie crime.
I think Kinger also remembers what it was like when Missy was initially not here, he looked for her and he'd whine. Now he goes looking around for Jack and sees him, but you can see him registering "this one can't play right now" and he goes to sulk.
They're breaking my heart.
Gah, I'm so attached and love them so deeply. I didn't think I could feel this way again after Missy dog... but here I am, totally bowled over with this deep sense of love and compassion for these guys. "Who's Schmoopy?"
Anyway -- long term prognosis on Jackdog is good. But right now he looks like he's one of Jerry's Kids... without the braces and crutches. When he walks he flips his legs out kind of far in front of him just to make sure the paw places downward instead of on the back of his hand. And he concentrates on it... and eventually just flops down in the grass and sighs. But, he wags his tail when you tell him what a good job he's doing.
So that's pretty much it. Add to this the fact I started a new job, and my life is nothing but exciting, yo. My boss talked to the President of the company and asked him if I could bring Jack in to hang out at my desk so I'd feel more comfortable. Isn't that just the sweetest damn thing! I didn't ask her, she offered... she's pretty stellar. The President was reluctant and declined the request but gave me permission to go home and check on the dogs if I wanted, and not have it count against lunch or anything else. That's pretty kind too, but I declined. The boys are here together in house, and doing alright. I'm hopeful for the future.
Last night I was joking around with Aaron on the phone and told him I was going to rename Jack to "Lucky." Aaron thought that was funny and suggested some other names... like "Flipper" because he flipped out of the truck, and "Crunchy" because, well... he got crunched.
I laughed -- you know me, I'm all about the laughing when things are "just not appropriate." I'm flip that way. But I'm still sad about what happened.
Perhaps, as Bruce Springsteen says, "Someday we'll look back on this and it will all seem funny." Funnier at least.
Last night Geoff was running around barefoot and he got a bigassed splinter in the Mariana Trench of the ball of his foot. It was horrible and he was in a world of pain. So I held him and Doug got it out as we watched Cledus T. Judd on CMT, hoping that would make for some funny. Ploughboy was the best. But I've seen "How do you milk a cow" too many times.
The whole time, Cledus T. is singing away, and Geoff is screaming like we're shoving hot pokers up his ass. It was kind of surreal.
He's begging us to stop. Everyone in town can hear him, and we're trying to be as loving and calming as possible.
Some of the funnier things he said in his begging phase were:
"Oh, why are you doing this to me! I beg you, please stop!"
"Oh no, not again. You'll kill me! I'm going to die! I can't breathe!"
"Mom, why are you letting dad do this to me. Oh please make him stop!"
And I'm trying not to laugh. He was such a drama queen. I told him so and he said "Oh, I am not, I'm a drama king!" Touche.
Doug got the splinter out, and it was a witchy horrible thing. Geoff was relieved and then ... it was like nothing ever happened. He went right back out.
Lesson? Learning? Hello?
I suppose I should make dinner. I should go love the dog. It's gorgeous out so I think I'll fire up the grill again and we'll have something on the barbie. MMMMMMMMM, Barbie. Gaaaaahahahahahhhhhhggggggh.