This isn't going to be witty or insightful or clever. It probably isn't even going to be coherent.
I spent much of last night at the animal hospital, trying to figure out what my wiley Westie managed to do to her left front leg. She started favoring it early in the evening. By bedtime, she could not lie still on the bed. She would lie down and try to get comfortable, then immediately pop up and try again. She kept making little snorts and groans. And the panting! It was like she'd run a little doggie marathon, except she hadn't been outside in hours.
Because Tim and Henry are out of town visiting grandparents, I had to make a decision. Tell the dog to suck it up. Or tell my wallet to prepare for a hit. I decided that I wasn't going to get any sleep with this wimpering, fidgety dog next to me in bed. So off we went to Bright Eyes & Bushy Tails Animal Hospital (after calling and talking to the nice, cheery-at-11:15 p.m. woman on the phone -- who, as an aside, warned us that just to walk in their door at that time of night will cost ya $88).
There were lots of questions about her activity, her behavior, her history. Then they poked and prodded, took a temp in her tush (I sincerely apologize, pup), drew blood, examined her gait, debated about whether to do X-rays (ultimately, they decided her wiggy demeanor indicated it probably wasn't broken), gave her love and treats, then scurried out of the room when the canine equivalent of an ER trauma rushed in.
We paid our $320 bill, picked up the anti-inflammatory/pain management med, and trotted off for home about 2 a.m. As we were leaving, we saw a man sitting in his vehicle outside, talking on a cell phone as he wiped tears from his cheeks.
He was the owner-person of the canine trauma that got triaged ahead of us. I think his friend didn't make it.
I was suddenly thankful that, of all the things that it could've been with Mags, she'd only torn soft tissue -- a pulled muscle or torn ligament or something. Once we were home, I plopped her on the bed, flipped off the light and got in. She snuggled up against me and rested her chin on my arm. We're going to have a talk about her bunny chasing and under-the-deck excursions. She can be brutal on her body and my bank account.
But I'm so glad she's OK.