Caring for your injuries is challenging, Dwight. After surviving the removal of your toenail, you were bandaged and sent home wearing the cone of shame. I was instructed to give you antibiotics for 5 days, remove the bandage after 3 days and doff the cone after the dressing was removed. Sounds simple. Not so much. Hound Dog Stubborn trumps Simple every time.
After 3 days, the cone of shame came off. I did remove it for walks and meals, but otherwise it stayed on. You didn’t seem to mind it too much, as in, it didn’t disturb your sleep. Your paw didn’t appear to be painful. We walked and you ran around the backyard without a bother. On day 3, dressing removal day, your stubbornness showed. Our determination was equal Dwight. I was going to take the bandage off. You were not going to let me touch it. The gauze was covered by a tightly bound blue elastic wrap. I was going to have to cut it. I called in reinforcements. John and treats. I tried putting you in sit, distracting you with treats while John made the snip. He got one small tear at the top before you ran off. We waited a few minutes before trying the reverse. John distracted, while I operated. Nope. By this time, I couldn’t even attract you with a treat, much less distract you. So I called Alexa, the vet tech, from next door. She put you in “the hold” while I consoled and petted you. John approached with the scissors. You saw, you flailed, you jerked out of the hold and ran behind the deck. After an afternoon of alligator wrestling, you whining, and running away, I threw down the scissors. You won, Dwight. I planned to call the vet, admit my defeat, and take you in for bandage removal.
For such a sweet boy, you sure do have a hard head. You didn’t even want to come in the house with us after the bandage removal fiasco. A while later you jumped at the door, probably hunger driven. When I let you in, I noticed the absence of the bandage. It was lying in the yard. All you needed was a slit cut in it, so you could remove it yourself. The good news. It was well healed D Man.
How NOT to give a Dwight a pill
- Surround the pill with American Cheese. I watch and wait as you take the round lump of cheese. It rolls around in your mouth like an after dinner mint. Then your jaws open and shut as your tongue stretches forward. Plink. The pill hits the floor. The cheese is gone.
- Make a bread/pill sandwich. You spit the whole thing out. Not even trying.
- Run to Petco, buy the special Pill Pockets. You love them, but the pill still hits the floor.
- Slather a piece of cheese with peanut butter and hide the pill in the middle.You really seem to like this. In true Houndini fashion the cheese goes in, magically disappears, but the pill ends up on the floor.
- Place the pill between 2 paper towels, crush it with the butt of a knife, scrape it onto a piece of cheese and offer it to you with tremendous enthusiasm. It doesn’t get a chance in your mouth, but ends up a slimy mess on the kitchen floor.
So, thankfully this was to be your last dose. After 3 pieces of cheese, 2 tablespoons of peanut butter and a slice of bread…you win. I managed to be the pill tricker 9 times, as you were supposed to take the antibiotic twice a day for 5 days. I give up. I figure you have decided you are healed and do not need this final dose. I sure hope so my determined Dwight. No cone, no bandage, no pills. You are care free!