Bones

I know you're thinking that all dogs like bones, and I can assure you Murphy likes his bones as well. He has a large knuckle bone that at one time had been  beef flavored but has since  been licked cleaned. He loves that bone and carries it everywhere he goes in the house. The problem though,  he is easily distracted by socks I miss doing my daily sweep of Murphy contraband from the living room or if he sneaks upstairs were we are less careful. He also loves his yellow tennis balls, so when  he is distracted he will drop that bone where ever he is. And it usually ends up on my foot, my bare foot. A couple of times I thought he may have broken a bone on the or two on my abused feet.  And with osteoporosis I have to worry about breaking bones. But broken bones and dogs are nothing new to me. 

On Christmas Day of last year, when I was going upstairs to bed my left knee finally gave out, it had been bothering me all week but it was Christmas and my daughter was home who wants to be a whinny wussie. I had been nursing my right knee from the past Christmas break when I fell off a chair (yes I am  klutz) and hit hard on a bare wood floor. It was extremly painful and difficult to walk.  My athletic daughter thought I tore my ACL, not a good thing. I hobbled around Christmas Day listening to my 83 year  old mother tell me maybe I was too old to have another dog.  Hey Mom I am only 56. And once I saw the pictures of the puppies there was no turning back now my heart was committed. I nursed the knee along but eventually I had to get an mri and sure enough I had torn a number of ligaments and strained the knee quite bad, talking with my doctor he assured me it was knee replacement time. All I could think about was how I was to manage the new puppy, because my husband was adament this was "my dog, my reponsibility". Fortunately seeing my orthopedic doc, she said no surgery until the swelling went down and as I could take no meds for it because of other health concerns it looked like my surgery could be put off for at least 6 months.  When I asked what I should do to shorten the waiting time she  said "stay off of it."  Like that is possible, even without a two month old puppy underfoot in our house coming in a couple of weeks. Yikes!  The good thing was I wouldn't be on crutches when Murphy arrived. 

Well it took exactly four days  after his arrival for me to end up in the local emergency room with a possible broken wrist. Yes it was dog related. I was taking Murphy outside for his "bathroom walkies", and while being careful to miss the patches of February ice/snow and a puppy that went every which way, I hadn't planned on my husband coming around the corner. Murphy was so happy to see him he took  off and I didn't get a chance to anchor my bad knee and down I went. I knew I didn't fall on the puppy because he was jumping over me giving me wet kisses, because of course I am his littermate so I was  there to have fun with him.  I lay there awhile thankful no bones were sticking out of my knee. But what  I heard really bothered me, I carefully turned my head and I see my husband doubled over not in pain but in laughter. I was angry now because no one likes to get laughed at and I wanted him to help take the dog so I could get up  off the cold wet ground, which he did.

But when I tried to get up he started yelling at me to be careful where I stuck my hand on the ground I apparently fell right between about three or four piles of Murphy's bodily gifts that hadn't been picked up yet that day. How I fell without falling in one of them or the dog is basically one of life's mysteries. When I got up I could see I left a body print in the snow like one of those crime scene outlines with doggie dodo all around. Thankfully the Dog Poop Fairy was taking care of me this time because it was a miracle I didn't land in any of the Murphy gifts.  With my bad knee it took me a while to get settled on my knee so I could walk but when I tried to take the leash back I knew I broke my wrist,  I couldn't grasp the leash without severe pain. I looked to my husband and said he would take the dog in so I could change my clothes because he knew I would be taking a trip to the emergency room.  I didn't want him going with me and telling everyone at the hospital how I fell and missed the doggie dodo. I was embarrased enough and knew my family would be relentless when they heard I fell over the dog and broke my wrist again. Mark of course would tell them of my narrow escape from landing in the doggie dodo. 

After I got there they ran some xrays and were pretty sure that I broke my wrist but didn't want to cast it, even though I pleaded for one if only for protection from the dog bumping it, but alas  they said no and made an appt with my Orthopedic doc for the following  week. Mind you by the time I go home my wrist  is aching and  was not being able to take any pain meds because of another condition, but I have a high tolerance for pain so I would get thru this.  Until I got home and found my mom had called. I really didn't want to call her back but I felt guilty and when I did she could hear the pain in my voice. I admitted that I had fallen and broke my wrist, again ( I had broken it the first time on the playground in third grade, again when I was 20 when I ran down the steps to answer a phone call from my future husband and did a  header down a flight of stairs). Three times a charm, right!! Anway of course the first thing she said was, " I bet you  I fell over the dog, didn't you." "Of course not mom, I slipped on some ice and my knee gave out." I didn't tell her that the dog leash was in my hand at the time and I was indeed walking the dog but later on she did figure it out and I had to listen to her "I told you so," over and over, at 83 she tends to forget she told you something so she is going to repeat a few times 'til she is sure she told you, God love her. 

When I went to the orthopedic doc she casted in a bright denim blue cast ( that by the way only stayed on my wrist about two weeks before I would wake up the next day with it lying next to  me in bed . Guess I am a freak of nature because she never had this happen  ( except infants) where within an hour of casting the cast is so lose it will come off).  She did chastize me because of my diagnosis of Osteoporosis and warned me that the healing will be slow and probably wouldn't heal completely, she was right. We chuckled over the fact I did this for the third time and that a dog was involved her being a dog lover herself. Then she looked at my record and saw where in Feb. 1999 I broke my ankle and wanted to know how it happened and if I had problems healing, which I didn't. But I did sheepishly admitted that incident also involved a dog. 

I was taking my daughter to the high school for midterm exams and thought to take our 140 pound newfie Maggie along with us as she loved to ride in the car. It had wamed up the day before and snow had melted but then over night froze. I was walking down two steps ( read that 2 steps) and the dog went one way and my ankle went another when it hit some black ice and down I went. The problem though was when I stood up I couldn't stand on my foot as it was really wasn't attached to the leg anymore, it sort of broke off the leg. It was the scariest feeling in the world.  A rescue squad was called and took my husband about ten   minutes to get the dog away so the paramedics could get to me before I went into shock. I spent 6 days in the hospital and when I came home and was confined to bed rest and  Maggie screened all my visitors,  always keeping the visitors away from the broken ankle. She was a great dog, though I'm not so sure Murphy has the same instincts to protect and serve. 

So as you can see it appears that dogs aren't really mine until they cause me to break a bone or two. Though with Osteoporosis this probably isn't a good tradition to continue ... 

Murphy says have a great day and don't forget to give your dog a real bone, pig's ears are for wussies. 

Jody and Murphy