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Bertie Baggins has lost his bounce

Oh dear.

One castrated puppy and four trips to the vet in two days has resulted in a collective feeling of guilt. Hmmm ... I'm wondering to what extent it is collective, or if this may be an example of where the dogs suddenly become mine and I therefore have sole responsibility and ALL the guilt?

I guess some of you reading this may perhaps quite reasonably think "So you should be, that's a despicable thing you just did to your pet" and ... I partially agree, but he was becoming increasingly randy and more aggressive in his play and castration is meant to 'calm him down' - a sort of life-time-cold-shower. Also, in the negotiation process of relentless nagging, persuasion and final acquiescence that was involved in first acquiring a pet, it was a condition of getting male dogs - along the lines of 'we can have males, if we get them done, so that we don't have any humping of trouser legs and furniture.' Well, right now, Bertie Baggins will not be humping anything. He is feeling incredibly sorry for himself and we are feeling incredibly sorry for him.

All at first looked good. Post-op, he was drowsy in a gentle, drunken, I-think-I'll-fall-asleep-standing-up way. The swelling between his legs was plum sized. Two hours later it was the size of an orange and oozing - too much information? Sorry! And what's with all the fruit comparisons? Just painting the full guilt-ridden picture and medics have always sized lumps and bumps in terms of fruits. Or vegetables.

Drowsy dog, bloody orange and me tootled back to the vet. Bertie Baggins was trussed and sent home.

Poor wee man -




This is truss mark five. One (the blue one) was applied overnight with a planned review on Saturday morning. Two and three fell off at the vets. Four fell off within minutes of getting home and five was applied after a further anaesthetic ... and quite possibly after the young on-call vet had had time to look up how to apply a scrotal truss to a dog, during the time it took us to get home, help Bertie Baggins out of the car, pull up the fourth truss that by then was round his knees and subsequently pick it up off the floor after he stepped out of it, phone the vet and drive back for her next attempt. She was successful (it's still in place) but about four hours later, the poor wee man developed withdrawal tremors from the anaesthetic, which were more distressing for us than for him - he was so tired and discombobulated by then, that a bit of shakiness must have just blended in with the rest of his nightmare. 

Am I conveying how guilty I feel?

Not quite convinced ... let me clinch it then ...

While Littlest's opinion on the impending castration was amusing "It's lucky people don't do that to their sons," her tearful reaction post-op was heart-breaking "Will I never get my bouncy Bertie back?"





I have promised her that he'll fly again one day soon. 

It may take a while before jumping is comfortable - the landing of a bounce might hurt and the extra ballast at the rear may prevent the attainment of previous heights.

If you can judge the well-being of a dog from how animated he is (which I think you can, even without anthropomorphising his slightly disgruntled, still baffled, innocent you-did-this-to-me-so-love-me-more expression), Bertie Baggins is feeling better today. The anaesthetic has of course worn off, too.

There is no point in pondering "Would I have had this done if I could have forseen the complications?" because what is done is done. But the answer anyway, is that I don't know. Maybe, I'll have an opinion less clouded by guilt, in a few days.



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