I drove Alvin to Monterrey this morning for his double knee surgery. I felt terrible the whole way down there because I know that it is going to be a painful recovery. We left at 5:45 AM because I wasn't sure how long it was going to take and we ended up getting there early so I took him to the beach. As far as we know, he has never seen the ocean. He did a literal double take and was very interested in what all those big waves were about - and they were really big waves this morning.
I felt a little ridiculous because I brought a bunch of written instructions on how to best deal with Alvin. I felt so bad leaving him there but I left him with a towel to put in his cage that smells like "us" back home, as well as his bed, his food, and instructions to give him treats instead of touches.
The hope is that he will come home tomorrow, which means another nearly five hour drive round trip but I am very eager to have him back home again. I am also fearful of having him back home because I want to make sure I don't screw anything up, but I can't stand to think of him scared and alone in a medical cage.
This is Alvin's second knee surgery. The first was not as successful as hoped, but a different surgeon is performing this one and it's his speciality. He hopes to get Alvin's knees back to normal. Between the first knee surgery, his eye surgery, and this knee surgery, he is definitely turning into Camp Cocker's million dollar baby. But he is worth it. He is the sweetest little guy and has taken to sleeping on top of me at night. He has made some good progress in the touch department and we have finally broken through the over-handed, touching the back barrier. I can now pet him on his back and on the top of his head for as long as I want, as long as we are in bed together. When Alvin goes to bed at night, he ends up sleeping very soundly and although he starts out sleeping right next to me, throughout the night he drowsily repositions himself and ends up sleeping on top of me. I groggily mistake it for being Timmie, and go to pick him up to put him beside me, at which point he wakes up and freaks out that I am picking him up and I wake up and freak out that I am lifting Alvin. It's quite a show.
I don't know if he is going to freak out too much when I try to lift him on the bed and since he cannot thrash with his back legs as he often does, I have the cutest dog playpen set up in my bedroom for him with his dog bed, a quilt, and his potty tray. I also have a similar set up in the living room with an x-pen, a dog bed and another quilt. The guilt of having to leave him in a scary place to be sliced open will surely result in him being completely catered to. We are then going to have to do physical therapy, which will probably result in him getting even more catered to because having a stranger tugging on his legs will surely result in me feeling horrible. I did try to explain to the surgeon that we were going to need a fair amount of sedatives for him but I think I can across as some type of canine drug dealer and the surgeon seemed a bit put off by me. As if he was the first male to be put off by me - he wasn't dealing with an amateur in that department because I have experience in dealing with disinterested, disagreeable males.
Meanwhile I have to take Timmie and Maddie to the vet tomorrow. Maddie seems to have an ear infection and Timmie has grown a lump on his butt. Stevie is still recuperating from her cataract surgery and so, we have ears, butts, knees, and eyes to deal with around here. Thank goodness they aren't all on one dog/cat.
I will keep everyone posted on Alvin.