Sweepin’ the clouds away
On my way to where the air is sweet ~Joe Raposo
This past September, the 28th to be exact, I arrived at my mom and dad’s house to find Seven slightly different. What was this change? His injured leg. What happened? Seven broke his leg!
Over the years, we’ve never experience a dog with a broken leg, ever! I mean dogs meet porcupines, yes. Dogs meet skunks, yes. Dogs even get too much exercise and have sore muscles for a few days, sure, but a broken leg?
Evidently, Seven and Scooby got away from mom and they headed straight for the neighbors dog, Thor. Yes Thor, he’s a really friendly German Shepperd pup. Knowing our dogs, the mad dash for Scooby meant he wanted to bully the dog. The mad dash for Seven meant he wanted another friend to play with. Either way, our boys, mostly Scooby, do what they want, when they want, even if mom is standing on the porch yelling at the dogs to listen (my cousins down the road can hear mom yelling, no joke!) and they simply choose to do what they feel like. Both dogs, Thunder and Lightening as I like to refer to them, headed down the driveway and onto the road, till they reached the neighbors driveway before making their way back.
Mom said Scooby trotted up the driveway all proud of himself, wagging his tail like he did something admirable. Now, Seven on the other hand didn’t come back right away. That’s not normal behavior, at all. Seven is faster than Scooby and Seven likes to run around like a puppy. Not to mention, he’s the one out of the two that semi-listens. Mom called for Scooby’s sidekick and eventually he came into her line of vision, limping along the way. What happened?
Her and dad looked it over and they guessed it was broken, but couldn’t verify. Being later in the evening on a Friday night, there wasn’t a whole lot my parents could do for the dog, so poor Seven had to go to bed and try and rest. Mom informed me he laid in the extra bed, the one I usually sleep in when I stay there, and whimpered all night. Poor Seven was in pain!
By the next morning, they could see an area on his leg that was swollen and Seven couldn’t put any weight on the injured limb. By the time, I got there, mom had already taken Seven to the Vet’s office. After a few X-rays, low and behold, one broken right leg.
The Vet’s office was praising Seven’s behavior, being mild tempered and a real trooper. I was proud of him. I mean, a bunch of strangers poking and prodding, being held in a strange place, all while in pain. Seven even let them move him around to get proper angles under the X-ray machine and never said a peep. Once they were done with him, mom and Seven headed home with my buddy sporting a cast.
On a side note, Kyle and I felt really bad for Seven, although we were both excited to sign his cast, just like I was in high school again.
Seven eventually became very efficient at walking and then running around with three legs. Soon he started to put some pressure on the cast and use it like normal. Well, nothing about the situation was normal. Not being mean, but it was funny watching him walk stiff legged and dragging that cast around. Sometimes, we would bust out laughing at him walking on the cast and the ticking sound he would make on the hard wood floor. I know mean, but Seven took us in strides, knowing it was a humorous situation.
The only part that put us all in danger, was when he became too comfortable with the cast. He felt the need to be his old normal self, and would try and jump up in our laps, which resulted in him jabbing us in the gut with the stiff leg. That hurt! He even whacked me across the face a few times trying to get in my lap so I could hold him. The worst came, when Seven was trying to jump around with excitement as all Labs like to, and he brought his cast to meet my shin. Half hurting and half laughing I said, “O, he clubbed me! He clubbed me! Man down, man down.” Kyle and I got a kick out of that one. In all seriousness, he did bruise my shin pretty good, yet I know he didn’t mean to.
As time was healing our broken dog, the vet told us to take the cast off and let Seven continue to apply weight as he could. He was still not allowed to run around and believe it or not, Seven was not allowed in bed. I think the later really upset him, but we wanted him to heal up without causing additional pain to our little doggie so we held tight to that rule. I had to cut off the darn, dirty, stinky cast. That melted my heart. The further I continued to cut away at the cast, I started seeing signs of distress. Seven rubbed the back of his leg raw from itching and there was a lot of dried blood. Poor Seven! At least with the cast off, it wasn’t so itchy and now the air got to his fur, giving him some comfort.
Eventually, Seven was walking around pretty good. I was not allowed to take the dogs for our usual daily hikes until Thanksgiving, which I was going to do after I came back from running in the Turkey Trot in Latrobe and after we ate Thanksgiving dinner, except the dogs took it upon themselves to go for an unapproved walk for a couple of hours in the woods. By that Monday, it was hunting season, so no walks in the woods for two weeks. After that, it seemed like the holidays always consumed the days, then it was raining all the time and then we moved into those few subzero days. I couldn’t take the boys out in those conditions! That is until last Friday. Yep, me, Seven and Scooby headed back up to our path for a three mile hike, round trip. We all thoroughly enjoyed the mid-day break to stretch out our legs. I quite enjoyed watching the dogs jump around in the woods. They were truly happy! Can’t wait for our walk today!
Seven’s leg seems to still bother him every now-and-again, especially in the cold, but he’s doing much better. What exactly happened to him? No one knows. He could have stepped wrong along the side of the road, or stepped into a pothole (Pennsylvania is famous for those) or twisted his foot wrong. Who knows, but he survived and is still recovering nicely.