River’s boo boo

My husband and I own two dogs. Since they’re akitas, they’re apt to howling instead of barking and have an insane amount of fur.

Well, said fur might be lovely but it knots like anything. So I brush it. Daily. I was in the middle of doing just that when I felt something hard and weird deep under River’s fur.

I couldn’t tell what it was and he wasn’t really inclined to let me poke around. So I waited until he was eating. River is food-driven, so he notices nothing while he eats. As soon as he started chewing, I started moving fur around.

And found this.

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The thing wasn’t in his fur. It was stuck deep into his flesh and hidden by the fur. The dark part was where it was imbedded into him and blood had soaked it to that colour. I pulled it out and stared in horror at the hole it left behind. I ran for the antibiotic ointment and applied that while River was finishing his meal (he eats really fast).

This…thing was in the fleshy part of his hind leg, where he couldn’t reach, so at least the ointment was going to stay put. River didn’t seem upset or even aware that I had done this but I was almost in tears.

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That’s where it was, deep inside there. It was really hard to even find it and pretty much sheer luck that I did. Still, it left me pretty shaken up and I  was determined to perform a close inspection of all his fur, just in case there were any other things stuck in there.

Of course, I didn’t find any more. But what were they? And where did they come from? And how did they end up on the thigh of my doggie?

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Looking around the yard, I found these seeds and I think that’s what imbedded itself into River’s back thigh. There are thousands of these all over the yard thanks to the massive tree that sheds them.

I still have no idea how that seed ended up embedded inside River and no way to keep them away from River or Ocean. Raking the entire lawn one day only caused exhaustion and I was certain I heard the tree laugh as it spilled even more seeds to the ground.

For the next few days, I hovered anxiously over each dog as they stepped outside into a minefield of dangers. With an eagle eye, I followed every movement and dashed outside to prevent certain disaster more than once.

The entire discovery was pretty disturbing and, while my therapist hubby assured me that my feelings were okay and I needed to ‘stay true to my process’, I searched River for signs of PTSD.

 

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River didn’t seem to be ‘processing’ anything. In fact, he seemed oblivious to the entire process. While I still searched his legs for other deadly impaled objects, he played with his bit of rope.

River’s lack of enthusiasm aside, I still think I did a good deed for my pooch. I gave myself a pat on the back for being a good doggie mom.

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