Wednesday, November 21, 2007

The Road to Recovery


Ok, I know this is an unflattering pic of Frosty again (sorry Dad), but it's his favorite position to lie in. Anyway, if you notice, he's sporting a new haircut and a built in zipper. Don't worry, he was sleeping, he's not still drugged. Poor thing looks like he's got front butt. Anyway, his surgery went well yesterday. He had to stay overnight, which didn't go well with him or Max. Max endured it by pulling out clumps of his own hair and leaving them around my apartment, as well as trying to sleep on my head and love me to death.

Thankfully, when I picked Frosty up today, they said that he's not been trying to mess with his incision and has been a really good boy. He just has a few doses of antibiotics to endure and then his internal stitches will disappear. They're also running an analysis of his bladder stones to help figure out how to prevent them from recurring so I don't have to drop another wad of cash on him in the future. Other than a bit of wailing on the way home, things have returned to normal for the most part. He followed me from room to room and laid on my feet for the first couple of hours. That included laying on my feet while I was cooking, sleeping, or standing. Good times.

Now the sucky part is that I have to pack him up and drag him to the parents' house tomorrow. And, if I had any doubts about whether I could leave Max alone here for a couple of days, those were amplified when I returned home to find Max in clumps all over my apartment. If I were to leave him alone for a couple of days, I'd probably return and he'd be bald. So he gets to travel as well.

Thanks for all the well wishes and even the offers to come over and sing him lullabies or do interpretive dances to keep his minds off things. He appreciates the concern. As a side note, it's amazing to me how many people told me I should just put him to sleep instead of worrying about surgery or the possibility of having to deal with this again in the future. Now, I've been careful not to call myself his mom or him my "baby", but disposable pets are not exactly my cup of tea either. Apparently they are for some people.

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