We dropped Colin the Beagle in for a much needed operation on her right hind leg, around lunchtime today.
New place, new vet, new surgeon. Highly recommended by friends and by our usual vet, but still not the familiar faces we’re used to when there are beagle issues.
And it’s been 7 hours since she went in.
Trying to stay calm and focused this afternoon has been tough, but finally, we got a call once their theatre day had finished.
Things went well. They found some arthritis in the knee joint. They removed some damaged cartilage. That’s ok. We were expecting these things. That’s why I’m determined not to let the guy near my knee. He’d probably lop my leg off.
And the actual bit of the op they wanted to do to mend the joint as best as possible also was a success.
But despite trusting the experts, there’s still that nagging doubt. If only there was some way, some sign that Colin could send us so that we could know that she was ok.
Oh, and she’s just eaten a load of chicken.
Boom. There it is. The secret message.
Beagles will eat 24/7 if you will allow them, but a sick or unhappy beagle will not eat, and when that happens, you know something needs to be sorted.
To be eating “a load” of chicken just after coming out from under the surgeon’s knife… well… clearly things are as good as they possibly could be.
Pick up is tomorrow, after some ketamine dreams (Colin, not me).
