“If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went.”
~ Will Rogers
Harry, our not quite six-month-old Blue Heeler puppy had the next of his surgeries yesterday to help accommodate his severe overbite.
His newly emerged adult lower canines were shaved down to stop them impacting his soft palate, but it’s only a temporary fix, while his teeth grow in. He’ll need more extensive dental surgery in a month or so, and then perhaps another corrective operation after that.
We brought him home last night and then he kept us up most of the night, worrying at his leg where the drip had been, taking endless trips out to the grass to empty out all the extra fluid the vets pumped into him, and generally crying and being fretful – still dopey from the remnants of his anesthetic, and hungry but not yet allowed to eat.
It reminded me of when he first came home to us, an unweaned pup, all fidgets and hunger and a two-hour bladder.
This morning he is bright-eyed and brimful of life. He kept leaping off the couch onto my head as I tried to meditate, and he’s checked his breakfast bowl at least twenty times…
We’re heading back to the farm soon. Harry and I have both seen our doctors, had our shots, gotten our take-home meds and now we’re in need of some fresh air, space to run around and the healing energy of home. We’re wishing you all a wonderful weekend too. Much love to you ♥ ✿ ♥ xx
