In the days before microchips, owners used to tattoo their dogs as a form of permanent identification. That's mostly fallen out of favor (it's a much more involved process than microchipping, and more painful as well). That's still not to say that tattoos have completely fallen by the wayside in pet ownership and rescue...
See that little green line? That's Brugge's tattoo. Yep, you read that right. My own dog is inked. People ask me about it all the time when we're out and about at places like the dog park, "What's that on her belly?" When I tell them the answer their facial expressions usually range from shock and derision to a grin meant to express kudos. I can't take credit for it though, she came that way when I rescued her. The shelter from which I adopted her tattoos their dogs to denote that they have been altered (altered meaning spayed or neutered). It provides an easy way to tell the animals have been "fixed" should they end up in a situation that once again lands them in a shelter. Typically, the animals get a quick line, but I have heard stories of shelter staff snapping up an animal as their own right after intake, and then requesting a shape for their tattoo, like a heart or a smiley face. Kinda cute, right?
Well, there is a less cute form of dog body modification going on around here right now. Poor little Tim landed himself in a bit of trouble on Saturday morning. See, it's not always easy to manage three dogs in cones, especially when they delight in freeing each other from the plastic and gauze (which is super fun to play tug with, by the way). Saturday morning, Steven took Brugge out for her morning walk and left Tim and Willem behind, seeing that they were still sleeping peacefully. Since I've been a wee bit sleep-deprived as of late (mostly due to factors not involving the dogs), he decided to sneak out without waking me. It was a sweet idea, and his intentions are good, but when the dogs hear the chime for the alarm system after opening an exterior door, they are at attention. I snoozed for 5 to 10 minutes before the rustle and play snarls of the boys woke me up. In that time, Willem had pulled the gauze securing the cone on Tim off, and Tim's cone had fallen off. I shot out of bed, scooped Tim up, and immediately inspected his incision.
"Uh oh." Where there had been tail ends of sutures poking out, there was now nothing. Obviously it wasn't completely devastating, because he was still held together. I waited for the vet's office Pawfect Match uses to open; mercifully, they're open on Saturdays. I explained the situation, and they told me to bring him in so they could have a look. It turned out he had completely removed his outer stitches, but his internal stitches were completely in tact (whew!). To be on the safe side, they added a surgical staple for a little insurance. It comes out after ten days, and in the meantime we are affectionately calling it his belly button ring (even though it's not really around his belly button).
So, sometimes body mod isn't such an act of rebellion. It's more like a product of an act of rebellion around here. I'm proud to report that other than the one indiscretion Tim is doing extremely well in his healing process, as is Willem. Their incisions look great, and they are their happy-go-lucky, playful selves. And, now that they're fully vaccinated and neutered, they are 100% ready for their forever homes! Could it be with you? ;)
No comments:
Post a Comment