I visited Nice today at the hospital. The doctors told me he is doing well and will be releasing him tomorrow. The pain medication is helping, but his face is wet from the tears. I know it is a good thing in the long term, this surgery. That doesn't help me when I see him laying there shaved up to his ribcage and bandages over both knees. I sat with him for awhile in his glass enclosure, rubbing him until he stopped moaning because I was there. They said he will be much improved by morning. When we walk out and I see his tail wagging I will feel better, I hope.
I am digging deep to keep my spirits high. Didn't sleep well again last night. I've seen road kill from one end of this country to the other. I am surprised PTSD didn't set in from the frog carnage I rolled over in Minnesota's Land of a Thousand Lakes.
None moved me like the wet towel and soaked cheeks from my puppy dog's tears.