ACL is an Acronym for Accounts Crested (their) Limit

The Million Dollar Puggle strikes again!  It has been one week today since Milo was put under to have his torn ACL repaired and half of his meniscus removed.  Seven days of carrying him outside to do his business then lending a supporting hand on his hind quarters so he doesn't topple over while assuming the squatting position.  One hundred sixty eight hours of removing and replacing his cone of shame every time he eats, drinks, or nature calls.  Eight hundred twenty five milligrams of pain medication dispensed, four shot of morphine, and two follow up visits to the vet.  Total hours of sleep?  Milo = 120; Me = 30

As I type this at 11am I consider spiking my coffee just to get through the day.  I fail to understand why Milo gets a script but I don't.  I am exhibiting symptoms of anxiety, sleep deprivation, incomplete though processing, and infrequent but sometime extreme bitchiness! Today I found myself getting upset when I saw another dog at the vet having it's sutures removed for the same operation as Milo, meanwhile my little guy looks like he's knocking on heaven's door.

With all the costs we have incurred with this pup in addition to our ongoing money pit of a house, J and I sat down and had the heartbreaking discussion of our snuggle puggle's possible end of life plan.  Our amazing veterinarian and longtime family friend interceded and offered his services gratis so we would only need to cover the expenses of the equipment and materials used.  I could have cried I was so relieved and in exchange for his generosity J and I offered to help prepare the clinic for their upcoming 25 year anniversary party.  He graciously accepted and we spent 10 hours of our weekend stripping, waxing, and polishing floors.

This would be the perfect happy ending except Milo is notorious for his mischief and took advantage of my complete exhaustion late last night.  After a wonderful time catching up with some out of town family and treating ourselves to a gourmet meal we drove home refreshed and renewed.  Milo was apparently not so relaxed and insisted on ramming his plastic cone against the bars of his crate for 20 minutes straight.  My sympathy prevailed over logic and I removed his cone to give him a brief reprieve and within seconds he was sawing logs and dreaming of frolicking in the waves of his beloved dog beach.  At some point I dozed off on the couch and woke to the sound of licking which I instinctively knew was not a good sign.

During my brief cat nap Milo had managed to pull his wrap down past his sutures and the cotton was strewn haphazardly across his bed as if he had just gutted one of his favorite toys.  I immediately woke J and we assessed the damage.  While the area appeared to be irritated from the friction of the licking, it seemed to still be intact so I used what I had on hand and frog taped the wrap back together knowing in less than 8 hours he would be at the vet for his recheck.

What I just discovered is that in 8 hours canine saliva can wreak havoc on a wound and cause inflammation and infection.  So now through his morphine haze Milo sits next to me in his crate gazing at me as I massage my temples and pray for and end that doesn't include a wheel or another swipe of plastic because my accounts and sanity have crested their limit!