Our 5 year-old rescue Poodle, Zoey, went and broke her foot last Friday. We let her out in the morning, and she came back in on three feet. Mason (our 12 year old Poodle) does this occasionally, and it goes away after a few hours, so we thought nothing of it. But Friday night she was still limping, and by Saturday she wouldn’t put any weight on it.
We waited until Monday to take her to the vet, because we are bad parents that way (remind me to tell you about how we let our three year-old human-boy languish with a fractured foot) and when we did take her in we got this:
She’s got a pretty purple splint now, we carry her up to bed sometimes, and she gets pain meds with her breakfast. That’s the life, eh? All she had to do was break her toe in spectacular fashion. This is also the dog whose teeth were so terrible that she spat out a tooth and nobody noticed until the cleaning people found it under an end table.
She just seems so grateful to be out of the situation she was in before she was rescued.