As I sit here Daly is laying down on his bed next to me, totally passed out. It's been a rough few days for everyone, and I'm glad they're over.
We went into this surgery mess thinking that there was a good chance the diagnosis was tendinitis, and that they would easily be able to go in, cut the tendon, recover, and be done with it. It did not work out that way at all. When they got into his joint, it was bloody and they discovered a torn capsule or something, but the tendon looked just fine, which is actually bad, because now they know NOTHING. I guess this torn capsule couldn't be the original problem because of ugh, am I ever getting sick of this story.
Oh. the. frustration.
Anyways, he is on bedrest for 6 weeks. No stairs, no walks, no jumping, no nothing. Oh, and he can't gain weight, because that is bad. Right. Meet Daly, my wiggly hungry dog. After those 6 weeks, it's another 6 weeks of leash walks only. Sorry Daly, spring will mean NO FUN FOR YOU. My poor, shaved, broken puppy.
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