… and then events overtook me and it never went live. Story of my life, these days!
I wrote that Sid was feeling much, much better – just like his old self, in fact, but if possible even more affectionate, bless him – but that Jeffie had managed to hurt his leg.
He did it at Brambleberry’s Fun Run last weekend, and it was my fault. I made a couple of stupid mistakes; the first was buying into Jeffie’s own belief that he’s three years old, not ten, and therefore quite able to run with the young things, and the second was letting him do it on the very first run when they were fresh.
Jeffie loved it. He pretty nearly kept up with the two greyhound girlies all the way up the gallop, turned nicely and was doing well and keeping up with them on the way back when they crowded him just a little and he put his foot down wrong … and screamed the GSOD*. However, he kept running, albeit rather more slowly, before coming to a halt and limping back, and the screaming did not continue. I suppose you could call it my third mistake: I believed the old fart when he said ‘I’m OK – really I am, just pulled something’.
It’s the same kennel and rehab centre where Sid goes for hydrotherapy, so bearing in mind that sporting injuries and rehabe are their business, I asked their top guy to take a look. He did all the usual injuries checks and ranges of motion with both his back legs and concluded that he’d pulled a muscle in his thigh, gave me some advice on how to manage him, and I took him home to rest.
And then his toe swelled and he didn’t like to put any weight on it, and because of the hard time Sid had just had at the vet (and really not thinking this was too serious) I took him back to R at the greyhound place and he took another look. This time he could feel a slightly swollen tendon in the thigh, and took a look at his toe and said he’d probably either ‘knocked it up’, which is greyhound-trainer speak for dislocated, or just bruised it, because if it had been broken he’d have screamed when he examined it. In this instance, it probably popped straight back in if it was disclocated – which they can do – so we never saw the displacement. And there was Jeffie’s toe, swollen for sure, but straight as a die … well, as straight as Jeffie’s toe ever had been, which isn’t very. R gave me some embrocation to use and said it should take the swelling down in three days.
So we found ourselves at the vet after all yesterday, and I found myself coming home without Jeffie because that toe was not merely broken, it was shattered into a gazillion pieces.
And so now I feel as guilty as hell because poor Jeffie had to endure so long with a badly broken toe – not that the daft dog complained much; he still trotted out to the garden ON the foot most of the time, even if he came back holding it up. He still slept like the dead, ate his dinner (as well as Jeffies ever do eat their dinner) and even spun excited circles in the hall in the usual crazy Jeffie way when he thought he would. Heck, he even let me examine the toe at frequent intervals, though he clearly wasn’t overly keen on it being touched.
The upshot of all this is that the vet, having x-rayed him on the spot while I waited, kept him in and his toe was amputated yesterday. This isn’t as shocking as you might think, because it’s an outside toe on his back foot and really wasn’t likely to heal well. Many greyhounds race with a toe missing, and others have them removed simply because of intractable corns. It’s because they’re so bony, apart from anything else; bony, small-footed, and lacking in the usual subcutaneous padding and protection that other breeds tend to have. He won’t miss it.
I have a Meet & Greet to do today – though at the moment I feel like the last person on earth who should be advising potential greyhound owners – and must be there on the spot with my table set up and collecting tins at the ready by 10.30am. Before that, I have to go to the vet and pick up my poor Jeffers and bring him home – where, luckily, OH will be here to look after him until I get home. So really, I ought to get off my lazy backside and get moving, don’t you think?
The drip bag hanging on our back door is to use as a boot to keep Jeffie’s dressing dry when he goes out onto wet grass. At least we got our money’s worth from the Â£30 cost of the ‘i/v Fluids with Op (incl 1 bag)’, huh?
* Greyhound Scream of Death