every dachshund owner's nightmare

A couple weeks ago I was playing with my beloved wiener dog ~ I threw his toy into the dining room and he ran to get it, jumping over the step because the dining room is eight inches lower than the living room where I threw the toy from. When he got to the toy, he began crying in this horrid yelp that sounded like he'd swallowed a squeaker.

We knew he had hurt his back again.

He cried a lot that night, and this was worse than the other two times his back was hurt. I barely slept, and kept hearing his cries and would go to him and give him loves while he shook and whined. The next morning we took him to the vet.

I carried him inside wrapped in his blanket, and they took him with his blanket to check on him. Within a minute, the vet came back and said she was keeping him over the weekend, to restrict his movement and prevent further injury. I felt bereft, like I didn't get to say goodbye! This is not like me, and I shocked myself even further by saying to her, "Would it help Chewie if I brought him a stuffed animal from home?"

In looking back, I seriously can't believe 1. that I'd say such a thing, or 2. that she held a straight face as she replied, "I'm sure his blankie is enough."

We were able to bring him home on Tuesday after four nights of his being away. He had obviously been in a small cage ~ probably made of chain link fencing because his nose had a big sliced scab on the top near where his facial hair meets his nose. This week that scab fell off and now there's a big pink smooth spot where black nose should be. I hope he's not scarred for life. Either way, he's gorgeous to me.

He's been on Prednesone to reduce swelling in his joints/vertebrae. This (or his trauma at having been in a small cage for days on end) has created an unfortunate side effect. Three days ago, he peed on the living room carpet. Yesterday, my husband got home from work to find he had pooed on the carpet too. Last night, after my son's soccer game and dinner out, my husband got home first, and when we walked in, we found that while Dartman was busy, Chewie had pooed again. This morning, I saw that he had jumped up on the back of our couch (which we had failed to rig with cushions standing straight up to prevent his jumping up there) and peed into the back cushion where it had run down into the seat cushion too. Three times this week he's gotten into garbages he never touches and shredded kleenex and other stuff all over.

That had better be the last incident. This sucks. Oh, but his back seems to be much better, thank Jeebus.