Puppies chew on everything. It is the way they discover what is good to eat, and what makes their people cry. Alas, TV remote, I hardly knew ye.
Eventually they level up and achieve teenage doggy-hood. Those that identify as male demonstrate the urge to “dance” with everything, as often as possible. By everything, of course, I mean: tree branches, pillows, fellow pack mates, dirty clothes, towels, and, basically, anything they think might be responsive to their advances. Pro-tip: keep them away from the internet during this phase or your troubles will be compounded ten-fold.
This is the point where the trauma begins. One person in the house, and not to single anyone out but let us call her Codex, decides it is time for that trip to the veterinarian, the one at which your puppy leaves puppy-hood behind, along with their testicles. Think of them as a tip for a job well done.
We experienced this trauma over the weekend. It was a four-day school holiday, so why not celebrate by having the dog’s giggleberries purged? Counseling was sought, given, and, in the end, accepted.
The operation took about twenty minutes. An hour after we dropped him off we got the call that he was in recovery, and we could pick him up the next morning. I’m not afraid to admit I was stressing over the response I’d get. Would he look at me with his big, sad, puppy eyes, asking, How? How could you let them do this to me? Or perhaps anger. That couch cushion you prize? I haven’t begun to defile it. Step 1: Drink from the toilet and mud puddles until bursting. Step 2: Scratch cushion into stuffing bunnies. Step 3: Water liberally.
Needless worry, as it turned out.
He didn’t seem that different. Apparently, it takes about a month before the low-T sets in and the dancing urges diminish.
We spent the weekend in recovery, which meant keeping him calm. This was difficult, since he couldn’t be left alone lest he open the stitches. He and his pack-mates are extremely active, usually spending hours outside in a large fenced yard digging, exploring, and chasing rabbits. This weekend: not so much.
Of course, I took firm action in solidarity during his recovery.
A full recovery is in the offing. Just a few more days until the rabbit chasing can resume in earnest. It did, however, slow down our comic-making just a bit. We had to interrupt our ongoing story today so our illustrator could whip out a few easy panels, before resuming the more challenging artwork required for Friday’s comic.
I’m afraid any sort of denuttification apology will not be forthcoming.