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Yes dearies, I’m gonna rant again. Run for the hills!

OK, those of you brave enough (or crazy enough) to still be hanging around, this is yet another rant about the doggy drama. Still with me? Boy, you’re braver than hubby is when I rant.

Cindy did have her surgery yesterday, and we were able to pick her up tonight (it’s currently late Thursday night). She’s doing relatively well, and is at least moving her left leg, though she won’t put any weight on it. I know, duh! She just had a major surgery right?

Regardless, I’m pretty pissed right now. When we met with the surgeon and her assistant Wednesday morning, we covered all the details of the surgery (her end), why we felt it was worth the risk, and finally got her to understand why we (OK, I) felt it necessary in her case. At the end of the discussion I made one demand … no Fentanyl patch! I reiterated this to the assistant when she came back with the cost estimate.

The reason I didn’t want Cindy to have the patch is that we already know it makes her paranoid … and I mean really paranoid! They gave her one of these patches last August when they stitched her up before we went to Shasta. She was twitchy and freaked out for the two days it was on, and I finally decided that was the problem and pulled the damn thing off early. She was fine by the next morning.

So I said no Fentanyl … period. Both the doc and her assistant said no problem. So why, when I go through the detailed list of charges provided by the center is there a charge for a Fentanyl patch? Unfortunately I didn’t go through the detailed charges until after we got home (several hours after actually). I called the center and asked the receptionist to see if anyone knew whether or not Cindy had actually had a patch on at one point. She did some digging for me and came back on the phone and said that even though the chart is annotated in large print “No Fentanyl”, there was indeed a patch placed on her last night. And it was removed this morning.

Great. At least I know why Cindy is acting weird. I can deal with the weird. What I can’t deal with is the refusal to eat or take meds that she needs. I know a lot of folks will think “she’s a dog … just make her take the pills”. Yeah, right. First off, she is a very smart dog … think 8 year old kid smart. She’s a Border Collie mix and they are sharp as tacks. Cindy is scary smart. And she has a memory like an elephant. Last summer, along with the Fentanyl, she was given chloramphenicol … a really nasty antibiotic. They had warnings all over the bottle that humans shouldn’t even handle the capsules without gloves. And you want me to give this shit to my dog? Really?

That shit tore her stomach up. After 4 or 5 days it was all we could do to get her to eat anything. And once she was weaned off most of the pain meds, she flat refused to take it. I ended up taking her off it 4 days early because she’d just spit it all back out. I even opened the capsules (a big no-no) and mixed them with liquid so I could try and use a baby syringe to get it into her throat … I ended up wearing most of it.

So … I’ve got a really smart dog, with a really good memory, and the last time someone stuck a Fentanyl patch on her, she also had to take this nasty shit that upset the hell out of her stomach. At this point I’m pretty sure she not only remembers all that, she also remembers how the Fentanyl made her feel … and she’s assuming (do dogs assume?) the nasty shit is coming back too. And now she won’t eat … and I’m fairly sure it’s because she is afraid of what I might have put in the food. She knows I put pills in her food. She has thyroid and homeopathic pills that we add to every meal. She knows, and she’s OK with it. But tonight? Nope, not having any part of it. Yeah, I’d like to smack someone.

On the up side, I mixed some aloe gel and slippery elm powder (helps to settle the tummy) in with a little almond butter and managed to sneak in her thyroid pill and pain medication. She didn’t want to take it (you try and get a 70 pound, stubborn dog to open her mouth!) but I managed to coax her into taking it. Sheesh I’m hoping she’ll be convinced by morning that things really are “back to normal”. Well, except for the knee that now needs to heal.

Surely one of you will take pity on me and come help me out … please? If it helps, it’s been 65 and gorgeous, albeit a tad cloudy, here in SoCal. Alright, enough of the pity party … I’m gonna see if the pup needs to go potty and head off to bed. πŸ˜‰

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