Christmas is such an interesting time of year. Everyone is scurrying about looking for that special thing to give or that gift that they just want for themselves. I had to go shopping this weekend--or rather I assisted someone else in their shopping. I myself prefer to get online, choose the perfect gift, pay for shipping, have it shipped to the person it is intended for and call it a day. It is MUCH easier that way. But alas, with mere hours left to shop people bustled into the malls filling it with obnoxious parents and their whining children momentarily muted with ice cream and chips. I don't like shopping to begin with but it becomes almost intolerable at Christmas time. There are too many people willing to pulverize anyone who dares to get between them and the "perfect gift." Everyone's looking for that thing that will make someone else happy. That will make them squeal with delight. That they appreciate even for just that moment. They say the Christmas season is all about giving (and the whole Christ was born story). But when you get back to work, or school, the first question people ask is, "What'd you get for Christmas?" So are we really concentrating on what we get or what we have given? How often does some ask, "What'd you give for Christmas?" Then there's the added pressure of giving enough. If you don't give enough, you might as well not give at all. Some people expect you to spend a certain amount on each individual. They look at it as a level playing field. Everyone speculates on how much things COST. Instead of giving cards, we should just write up a list of the things that it cost to get the gift that you gave. If you gave someone a PS3, for example, you write a long list of the things it cost you. You stood in line for days. You carried the box to your house. You bought wrapping paper for it. You took time off work to have enough time to wrap everything. That PS3 could have been a new puppy, or a short cruise, or paint to repaint the living room, or tickets to the theatre, or a flight to Vegas, or many other things. Some people assess your value of them by what you give them and how much it costs. Is Christmas really about giving at all?

There are those days/weekends that it's just nice to be alone. To have one's own space undisturbed by human interaction. There are those times that one could wath movies upon movies. Just to sit and be alone. Sometimes I wish for the solitude. There is no fighting in solitude. No arguing. No conflict.

Conflict is exhausting. Emotionally draining. It makes me feel like I need a break from it all. A break from people. A break from the stress and strain of relationships. It is those kind of weekends that I do just that. I stay inside and appreciate solitude.

First few days.

It's just the first few days of having Nora back home and it's been interesting. I leave her confined in the bathroom when I am at work. But when I am home I try to be attentive enough to keep her from running and jumping. She spends most of the time being held and sleeping. I have figured out though, that this is the time that she's going to become well disciplined. She is good now but now she has to obey because I am so worried about her. It's some fast-paced, intensive training.

The next few weeks are going to be devoted to her. Nothing else matters. She is my heart. She makes me happy and she's cheaper than therapy. :) I could spend all day hanging out with her, playing fetch and scratching her belly. She's a sweet dog. This surgery is nothing. If it makes her life better, then the cost is nothing. Some people don't understand the relationship between a person and their dog. She curls up next to me when she sleeps. She licks me awake to tell me she has to go outside.

She's back.

I have Nora back at home now. She's alive and doing well. She's sleeping alot right now which is good. She needs time to heal. It's going to be another four weeks before she can even think about getting back to normal activity. No running. No jumping. Mind you, she's 9 months old and basically uncontrollable. But I will have to be a mean mommie for a few weeks. I'll make it. Right?

The big day.

Today is the day. My little Nora is in surgery. But I should explain.

About 3 weeks ago, Nora jumped off the couch--like she's done many times--and went away limping. I thought that she'd just twisted her leg the wrong way and strained a muscle. I felt her leg and could feel anything broken. If it was a muscle thing, it'd no longer be sore in a few days. She gimped around for about 4 days and I decided she needed to see the vet. I took her to my vet in the neighborhood. I'd been going there since I had Nora. First, she offered to put Nora under anesthesia to do xrays. I told her that Nora was a good dog and pretty calm when it came to scary situations like the vet's office. They took xrays with her awake. They brought them in and the vet said that she couldn't tell if it was Nora's hip or her knee. She said that I should give it another week and come back. That was on a Wednesday afternoon.

Ok, so here, there's a couple of problems. First, putting an animal under anesthesia is always risky. Animals die under anethesia and I didn't think that this was an occasion that required anesthesia. Secondly, the xrays weren't very clear. One leg was straight, the other was bent. There was no way to make a comparasion between the two legs. To me, that just seemed not-so-helpful. Third. You can't tell the difference between the hip and the knee?! You can't see which one looks out of whack?! You can't FEEL which part is not in the right place?! Are you a vet? Are you kidding me?! And fourth. YOU WANT ME TO WAIT A WEEK? To what? Come back so you can tell me that it's worse? Are you crazy? Moron.

Still, I wait a couple of days. After all, maybe it will get better. Finally, on Friday I make an appointment at Timmy's vet. (Side note: Timmy has gone to his forever home. He's happy and I'm happy that he's happy. But that's another story.) I had taken Timmy to that vet a couple of times and they seemed to be very compassionate and took good care of him. I couldn't get into the vet until Monday. I grabbed the crap Xrays from the neighborhood vet and took them to Timmy's vet. Dr. S put Nora down on the table and felt her legs and immediately said that her hip was fine. She just felt it and knew. That's the kind of vet I need. She looked at the Xrays and said that they were undeveloped and that they chose bad views of the leg. (I knew it. Those *&%$#^! people.) So she did some more Xrays--never even mentioning any need to sedate little Nora. She came back with Xrays and put them up on the viewer. With these Xrays, even I could tell that it was definitely her knee. One leg was basically a straight line down the femur and tibia. The other leg had a strange out-of-place thing at the knee. Dr. S explained that Nora's patella was luxated. It was a medial patellar luxation. Basically, her kneecap had slid out of place and was now on the inside of her leg. It probably popped back into place sometimes but it hurts to walk on. But it wasn't going to pop back in place and stay there by itself. She needed surgery. Knee surgery. Still, Dr. S wanted a second opinion so she sends all the Xrays to a radiologist just to make sure that that's all that's wrong. She said that her growth plate could also be busted but she wanted to have a professional eye diagnose that part.

She called me the next day and tells me that it looks like everything else is ok but yes, the patella is out of place and needs surgery. She scheduled and appointment with the local board certified surgeon. He couldn't get me in until the following week. I kept Nora on pain meds and a sedative during that time. We met with the consultant vet--which I found out was not the actual board certified surgeon. I basically insulted him at the point asking if he was in training under the surgeon. He said that he was a resident vet but still learning from the surgeon. He then preceded to explain that he'd been in internships and thought that he was doing really well then but came here and realized that maybe there were some things that he didn't do quite right. What he failed to do was think about what the hell he was saying. I mean, at this point he might as well be a babbling infant because that's how confident I was in his ability to sliced my puppy open and fix her leg. So, that didn't help me trust him at all. I left his company and talked to the women up front to make sure that he didn't have anything to do with my puppy and her surgery. Silly man.

It was still a week later and now, today is the day. She's in the surgeon's office. I took her little bed there, her sweater and a toy. All labeled with her name. She should be in surgery at some point today and they are supposed to call me when she gets out and she's awake. I've spent the entire day looking at the clock begging it to tick faster so that I can find out if my baby's ok. I cried when they took her away from me this morning. I don't know how I'm going to sleep tonight without her.