I’ve noted my distaste for how oblivious Toy dog owners are with respect to how their little charges affect larger dogs.  This attitude has now struck home.

My lovely bride had an accident three weeks ago while up in Dallas for dog shows.  She was at the hotel exercising Dutch when out of a side entrance burst a mob of little yappy Chinese Cresteds.  Dutch bolted toward the road and while Prudence was trying to reel him in on his long flexi-leash, the cord somehow became wrapped around the tip of the little finger on her right hand and severed it.

With 1) dog and 2) fingertip in hand she returned to the lobby and imperturbably requested the clerk call 911.  Luckily a fellow Borzoi exhibitor (also an RN) was in the lobby having breakfast; she stayed with Prudence until the paramedics came, got Dutch put back up in the van, secured Prudence’s valuables and called me.

Fortunately, Southwest has hourly flights between Houston Hobby (near our house) and Dallas Love Field (near the hotel).  I got the news at 7:30 AM, showered, dressed and got to the airport to catch the 9:00 flight, was at the hotel a little after 10:00 to take care of poor Dutch (who was in a tizzy) and clear the room out and got to Parkland Memorial Hospital by 11:00.  I also had to go to the show site to collect all of our equipment there.

Meanwhile at the hospital, Prudence got the bad news that reattaching her fingertip was not possible. Attempting to save as much of the little finger as possible, doctors joined the little finger and ring finger together and grafted skin from her arm to cover the fingertip. Even though she was assured by the doctors that the surgery would take an hour, recovery time another hour and she’d be released by mid-afternoon, she didn’t go into surgery until 2:00, surgery took four hours, recovery another five hours and another hour was wasted with hospital bureaucracy trying to get prescriptions filled.  John F. Kennedy actually is still alive, he’s just trying to get released from Parkland.

Finally at midnight we left for a five-hour drive home.  By the time we got down to Houston, I was literally having hallucinations.  Bless their hearts, the house dogs left only one small puddle despite being confined for 24 hours. For more than one reason, they were overjoyed to see us.

My lovely bride’s right hand and arm are bandaged to the elbow. She still has limited use of her other hand because the IV site the paramedics established in her hand infiltrated and instead of going into the vein, most of the fluid ran into the muscle so her hand is grotesquely swollen. There’s a five-inch scar on her arm from where they took skin for the graft.  The ventilation tube they used for the anesthesia was too big for her throat, so that was bruised too.  All the other medically-induced bruises scattered around her body were too numerous to mention. She’s spent the last three weeks at home; fortunately Vicodin has worked well. 

Next week, she’ll have to undergo another round of surgery to separate the two fingers.  In the meantime, I’ve been her nurse, chauffeur, cook, secretary and kennel help.

We’re trying to look on the bright side of this:  10% discount on manicures in the future!