Ex-cruciate-ing

Growing up, I always wanted a dog. There were a lot of reasons why we didn't have one, but I knew that once I got my own place to live after college, I would be getting myself a dog. (It was in my five-year plan. Seriously.)

We adopted Niki about a month after Andrew and I got married, and we have loved him like crazy ever since. When he needed a dog (for companionship), we adopted Elphie. They have been our companions for the last eight years, and they have brought our family immeasurable joy.

Niki prefers to sleep propped on a soft surface. Here: my belly.

On Sunday, we noticed Niki was limping. We have had the *nastiest* foxtails in our yard this year, so Andrew and I both gave Niki a thorough examination (and a paw-di-cure) to see if we couldn't solve the issue.

"If he's still limping tomorrow, I'm taking him to the vet," I told Andrew. "I'm sure it's a pulled muscle or something."

Monday morning rolled around, so I made the appointment, texted Andrew the details, and on we went.

As we went in to the appointment, I talked our vet through all of the troubleshooting we had done in order to eliminate some of the causes of the limping. We got Niki to lay down on the good side, and Dr. L did a quick check to see if it was Niki's Cranial Cruciate Ligament (CCL).

It was.

We talked through our options, and with some guidance from Dr. L, got Niki scheduled for the CCL surgery. We did his pre-op stuff on Wednesday, Andrew dropped him off Thursday for the surgery, and we were supposed to pick Niki up Friday morning.

I held my breath all morning until I got my favorite phone call- the one where they call and tell you that your beloved pet is awake and recovering beautifully. And then came Thursday night. The first night where we were all home, except for Niki.

It was eerily quiet. Elphie was twitchy. I kept looking around the house for Niki, only to remember that - nope - he was at the vet recovering.

"He'll be home tomorrow," Andrew kept saying. It didn't make me feel better.

Friday morning, we got a call from the vet telling us that Niki was fine, but that he was refusing to eat. Dr. L chalked it up to anxiety, and suggested we come and get Niki ASAP. So we did.

Three pages of instructions and a bag full of medication later, we were on our way home.

Family snuggles: Priceless

It's been interesting taking care of a recovering dog. I keep thinking to myself, "This would have been easier before we had Genevieve," but the fact of the matter is that regardless of the timing, it's always hard.

We're taking turns keeping Niki comfortable and still, and my parents have been a huge help when it comes to juggling the baby and Niki's recovery. Fortunately, we are all well-loved, so nobody is left wanting.

(Elphie is running around scamming extra treats and snuggles while Niki snoozes, in care you were worried.)

I am so thankful that Niki is on the mend. Andrew and I joked earlier that once we got a routine in place, everything seems to change. That's life, huh?

It keeps us on our toes.

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