Roo is having trouble healing

Plans to depart this area sooner had to be delayed because Roo’s paw is giving her trouble and it didn’t seem to make sense to drift out of Dr. Stokes’ waters until her recovery was a sure thing. Kid hoped that getting the stitches out on Thursday would be the turning point but it wasn’t. It seemed like everything was going well until Saturday morning. She came out of her corner when she woke up around noon with her paw inflamed and infected. Cleaning it and dressing only takes care of the problem for a few hours until the wound starts itching her. If that happens in her sleep she is too out of it to realize the damage she does. So, she has a gnarly hot spot there now. I’ve dressed it with a toddler sock as a breathable guard held in place with self-adhering bandage higher up the arm. That way nothing contacts the sore spot. If she keeps picking at the wound she’s going to have to be put in an e-collar. I have one with me. The problem is that there isn’t enough room for her to wear it in the tiny camper. She would just get hung up every time she tried to take a step in any direction.

She listens to me when I clean and dress the wound and tell her that she can’t pull the sock off. But in her sleep she forgets, and if she does and licks it, she can turn it into a bad infection right away. She did it last night, and it was oozing pus in the morning. Cleaned again with hydrogen peroxide drizzled in with a syringe rinsed off with distilled water and a light dusting of NeoPreDef, which contains antibiotic, steroid and lidocaine. If she can make it through the night without harming herself it’ll be a good start.

She’s uncomfortable, bored and sad. Tomorrow it’ll be two weeks since had a walk. She’s tired all the time and just wants to go outside for absolute necessity.

We’ve had two days without thunderstorms, but it’s looking bad for the coming hours:


Supercells are not what I was hoping for. They are what they sound like. Powerful and vast, filled with billions of joules of energy, enough to power the planet, wasted as thunder, lightning, hail and tornadoes.  

The stitches came out on Thursday (Roo was so brave and cooperative with Dr. Stokes). We were going to leave on Friday, but her wound didn’t look good and I brought her back to see the doctor. There’s almost no point in leaving until she’s past the rough patch. We’ll see if she needs another round of antibiotics  

”Chigi Bear,” I lean over the side of my bed to talk to her in hers, “you don’t lick that hand of yours. You don’t pull that sock off.” She understands that and complies. She only forgets in her sleep. 

Then I tell her what I tell her every night. “Whose Daddy loves his Rooki up and down? Rooki’s. And who does your old Daddy love her up and down? That’s right, Rooki’s.” She likes hearing that. It puts her right to sleep. I remind her again to leave the sock taped to her paw alone and she backsnorts a couple of times as if to say, “I heard you the first fifty times.”  And then she’s asleep.

She of course knows about approaching thunderstorms long before I do, and it’s when she’s entering that zone of fear that she’s prone to doing the most damage to herself.  

This recovery is harder on her than I expected. I’ve never seen her want to do nothing but lie in the camper for so long. It makes me worry that this could be the injury that changes her life. That takes the only joy she had in it away from her. She doesn’t want to walk on that paw at all.