Our boxer Hermione took one wrong step on Sunday—she ran into something sharp on the playing field, a piece of an old soccer goal. I was home making coffee when Allysen arrived carrying our fifty-pound dog, who was bleeding from a nasty gash above her left front paw. (Several neighbors, bless them, had pitched in successively to help carry Hermione from the field.)
A long visit to the Mass Vet Referral Hospital later, we learned that she was in not just for stitches but for surgery, because she had not only cut her leg but had hit two arteries in the process. (Fortunately, we’d bandaged her up tightly.) She came home with a nice purple wrap covering a splint that extends all the way to the end of her paw; the injury was near a joint, and that had to be immobilized. We, needless to say, also brought home an impressive vet bill.
The old girl is going to be fine, but for the next two weeks she’s going to be stumping around the house like a peg-legged pirate on this splint. We’ve taken to calling her Thumper.
Here’s a picture of Hermione and Moonlight on a happier day.
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