I typically like to keep it light and simple in my entries, but for this particular subject matter, there isn't really a channel I can comfortably speak my mind in, so I turn to the one thing that always seems to help - writing. This entry is more therapeutical than it is an update.
On Tuesday morning, I heard Echo squeal from upstairs and ran down to see what had happened. When I called him over, he limped over with his hindleg lifted. I couldn't believe what I was seeing and in that moment, I completely broke down. I sat down in front of him, held him, and just sobbed uncontrollably. Would he sense my sadness and see it as weakness? Am I overreacting? I didn't care. He is my baby and my heart was broken. A million thoughts rushed through my mind: he is too young to not be able to run around and enjoy his puppyhood, how long is this going to take to heal, and worse of all, it is my job to protect him and provide him with the best life possible, and I failed...miserably.
The veterinarian examined him, but Echo was so tense and fearful that he could not tell whether his leg was badly bruised or if he had torn his ligament. So, he prescribed medication to help with the swelling and pain. I had to step out of the room because Echo was yelping so much that I couldn't bear to listen. Is this what it is like to see your child in pain? I would imagine so, except with a child it'd be 100x worse.
How Echo was injured is moot, so I am not going to explain. But, aside from the constant worrying and hopefulness that it is not a torn ligament, the most challenging thing for me has been coping. I try not to fall into the blame game, to try and stay optimistic, but every single time I see the little guy limp, my heart drops. I am so angry - angry that this happened, angry that this could probably have been avoided, angry that he is in pain, angry over the additional costs this injury has/may incur - just angry! I don't feel like I can release any of this anger in a healthy way without impacting someone else, so I continue to hold it in and pretend that I am okay with it. Sooner or later though, I will erupt, and erupt I did. This morning, just like there are small earthquakes before a volcano erupts, I lashed out, a magnitude of 3.0 I would say. Though a small relief, I caught myself and stopped because I didn't want to intentionally worsen the situation. But when I got into my car, everything came out. Yelling, crying - you name it. Deep sigh...
I held my little guy's head this morning and said a little prayer for him before I left for work. Hopefully he will show signs of healing soon and return to the little rambunctious rascal I have grown to love so much.
On Tuesday morning, I heard Echo squeal from upstairs and ran down to see what had happened. When I called him over, he limped over with his hindleg lifted. I couldn't believe what I was seeing and in that moment, I completely broke down. I sat down in front of him, held him, and just sobbed uncontrollably. Would he sense my sadness and see it as weakness? Am I overreacting? I didn't care. He is my baby and my heart was broken. A million thoughts rushed through my mind: he is too young to not be able to run around and enjoy his puppyhood, how long is this going to take to heal, and worse of all, it is my job to protect him and provide him with the best life possible, and I failed...miserably.
The veterinarian examined him, but Echo was so tense and fearful that he could not tell whether his leg was badly bruised or if he had torn his ligament. So, he prescribed medication to help with the swelling and pain. I had to step out of the room because Echo was yelping so much that I couldn't bear to listen. Is this what it is like to see your child in pain? I would imagine so, except with a child it'd be 100x worse.
How Echo was injured is moot, so I am not going to explain. But, aside from the constant worrying and hopefulness that it is not a torn ligament, the most challenging thing for me has been coping. I try not to fall into the blame game, to try and stay optimistic, but every single time I see the little guy limp, my heart drops. I am so angry - angry that this happened, angry that this could probably have been avoided, angry that he is in pain, angry over the additional costs this injury has/may incur - just angry! I don't feel like I can release any of this anger in a healthy way without impacting someone else, so I continue to hold it in and pretend that I am okay with it. Sooner or later though, I will erupt, and erupt I did. This morning, just like there are small earthquakes before a volcano erupts, I lashed out, a magnitude of 3.0 I would say. Though a small relief, I caught myself and stopped because I didn't want to intentionally worsen the situation. But when I got into my car, everything came out. Yelling, crying - you name it. Deep sigh...
I held my little guy's head this morning and said a little prayer for him before I left for work. Hopefully he will show signs of healing soon and return to the little rambunctious rascal I have grown to love so much.
This was taken on Sunday. He loves to get himself twisted up like a pretzel.
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