You get used to the looks and scowls you receive while walking your Rottweiler around. After twelve years, it doesn’t even bother you when people instinctively cross to the other side of the street when they see you coming. You laugh when you think back to friends and family suggesting you might find her a new home when you decided to have kids. You’re thankful every moment you have her that you didn’t listen and that you gave your children such a strong, loving animal force to have and hold and remember. When she leaves you, you can barely stand a moment without a dog to love so you soon break down and get a puppy. The puppy is not a replacement and she is nothing like your older dog. You are shocked, but you adjust and she matures slightly faster than your children, which is a nice surprise. Despite the interruption of her “puppy-ness” in your life, you end up loving her like crazy. Still, her teeth are razor sharp for the first few months and you have to be on alert. For a mom of three, there are just times that you are not where you should be and this was one of them.
Finn won’t listen. Jesse won’t listen. While I chatted on a five minute phone call yesterday afternoon, they wrestled in the backyard - unbeknownst to me. Finn came in bleeding from the ear and my friendly neighborhood nurse confirmed my thoughts about stitches. We were off to the ER.
It honestly went off without a hitch; he didn’t shed one tear while they cleaned the wound and stitched him up. Logan and Riley (and Uncle Dan and Grammy) watched and cheered him on along with Whoa Whoa. The docs and nurses were so great, only threatening to call DCFS regarding the green nail polish Finn insisted I apply to him while doing his sisters’ for St. Pat’s. Three stitches later, we were out the door and out for pizza to celebrate Finn’s hospital bravery.
And now Jesse has a “record”. Yes, any dog bite (it really was just a snag of her tooth – she couldn’t be less vicious!) must be reported for the “three strikes and you’re out rule.” For all of you who balked at our thoughts of another rott, I’ve got to laugh as I announce that our wonderful family dog – our black lab – is the one that has landed us in the ER! Unbelievable!!
Apparently whoever is in charge did not read my recent post on illness, doctors and hospitals – I have really had enough now!
Finn won’t listen. Jesse won’t listen. While I chatted on a five minute phone call yesterday afternoon, they wrestled in the backyard - unbeknownst to me. Finn came in bleeding from the ear and my friendly neighborhood nurse confirmed my thoughts about stitches. We were off to the ER.
It honestly went off without a hitch; he didn’t shed one tear while they cleaned the wound and stitched him up. Logan and Riley (and Uncle Dan and Grammy) watched and cheered him on along with Whoa Whoa. The docs and nurses were so great, only threatening to call DCFS regarding the green nail polish Finn insisted I apply to him while doing his sisters’ for St. Pat’s. Three stitches later, we were out the door and out for pizza to celebrate Finn’s hospital bravery.
And now Jesse has a “record”. Yes, any dog bite (it really was just a snag of her tooth – she couldn’t be less vicious!) must be reported for the “three strikes and you’re out rule.” For all of you who balked at our thoughts of another rott, I’ve got to laugh as I announce that our wonderful family dog – our black lab – is the one that has landed us in the ER! Unbelievable!!
Apparently whoever is in charge did not read my recent post on illness, doctors and hospitals – I have really had enough now!
1 comment:
Let's hear it for a playful lab puppy, an inquisitive little boy, an accident easily repaired, a loving/responsible Mommy, a determined Daddy beating traffic just in time to be there, an Uncle Dan and Grammy eager to help out, a great emergency room staff, "Finn's Bravery Celebration" at Lou Malnati's in Naperville, sweet Rottweiler memories and just plain livin' the life with all the ups and downs... Oh, and another entry in Finn's Baby Book: "1st (stiches)" March 18, 2009 at the top of his left ear (not to mention - a story to tell)
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