Note: Feel free to skip this post if you’re not a dog person.  

Also note: I am human. I recognize the title might suggest otherwise.

One more note: I’m assuming you already know I’m one of those people who is freakishly attached to her dog. Or I guess I’m not assuming it, since I just spelled it out for you. She’s my best pal and I pity my friends for the aftermath when she goes to doggie heaven someday.  

A few weeks ago Ruby Dogwonkafonka got her teeth cleaned, and while they had her knocked out the vet removed a little wart on her side. I was angsty – I get angsty anytime my dog has a procedure requiring general anesthesia – but everything went well. Growth was nothing to worry about, dog came through just fine, improved breath – all good. All we had to do was make it through the healing process and we’d be rocking and rolling.

The first couple of days went great – I could tell a few times she wanted to scratch or nip at the stitches, I could literally see the internal conflict, but catching my eye always brought about the right reaction of leaving the incision alone.  Saturday morning I left her alone for the first time. Not unattended for the first time – she’d had plenty of solitude hanging outside in the yard. First time fully alone.

A few hours later when I returned….gack. Stitches were gone. And for the Queen of Squeamish, I thought I was going to pass out when I saw the hole in my dog’s side. (There wasn’t really a hole, exactly. But definitely an open wound.)  Gah. I was also terrified of what kind of hideous pools of blood must have been waiting for me inside the house.


Like, really, a lot.

The dog was all, “I know I did something bad but I could not be less concerned about the hole in my side can I go out and play and get away from your crazy?”

Further investigation throughout the house revealed….nothing. I don’t know how she did it, but my dog opened up her wound without getting any blood anywhere in my house. Either that, or she did some serious cleaning. Whichever, good dog.

When I called the vet, they didn’t seem nearly as wigged out – apparently this kind of thing happens. This had a calming effect on me. What did not have a calming effect was taking the dog back to get replacement staples. I had to exit the exam room and rock in the lobby covering my ears while they did it, and I still almost melted down when the sound of Ruby yelping made it past the less-than-effective earhandmuffs.  

We left the vet’s office and went straight to PetSmart so we could implement the Zero Freedom Act of 2013, aka the Cone of Shame. Fortunately, my friend Liz had mentioned an alternative to the satellite dish version and I quickly ponied up 3x the money for a more comfy looking style. It basically looks like a neck pillow you would wear on a transatlantic flight, and it was totally worth it.

See how happy she looks? yeah, reality had not set in yet.

See how happy she looks? Yeah, reality had not set in yet.


Definitely less amused now.

Definitely less amused now.

I have to say, the dog was a trooper, but I was a pretty big stress case for the better part of a week while we established our groove. Week two was better. Then the staples came out (another horrific experience that left me shaking after they made me hold her while they removed them – I mentioned I’m squeamish, right?), we kept the collar on for a few extra days, and then the first time she got the chance, she went for the wound, the little shit. Now almost a month later, we seem to be in the clear. The incision has almost completely healed and fur is growing back. 


Which brings me to my original thought. How do you people with actual little humans do this shit? Kids must get hurt and/or require medical attention roughly 92 billion times more often than dogs. I don’t want to get so used to blood and grossness that it doesn’t make me freak out, because that means I would be seeing A LOT of blood and grossness and omg just no. But also the watching of the misery and suffering when your wee one is sick or hurt. Gah. I don’t think I could deal.

Please note, this is not to suggest this is the only reason it’s good that I’m not a parent. There are many, and I’m sure we’ll revisit the topic in the future. And there are also maybe four reasons I would have been a rockin’ mom. For now, though, I’m just going to breathe a sigh of relief that this episode is behind us and my fur baby is almost whole again. 🙂

ruby after

“My bald patch needs to grow back but at least I’m FREE!!!! Except holy crap, why does it look like I have no legs in this picture??”


Comments on: "I would suck as a human mom." (15)

  1. Great read, Janie loved it and is honored that we’ve got YOU as her doggie godmother.

  2. Tim Manges said:

    As you know, I’m not a dog person but I read your entry and liked it. Life with dependents is a worrying thing. Plus, once in a while you get awakened from a deep sleep in the middle of the night by being splashed– doused– with puke by a sick child, which has happened to me twice that I can remember.

    • Gah. So gross. I have been awakened by the unmistakable sound of a retching dog, but I’ve never gotten puked on. That would probably bring on some response puking from me.

  3. lol! This was great! Loved it, and Ruby is beautiful, with ton of love and character in those eyes!

  4. Oh my Lord, you’re hilarious! Saw your blog name on a post you made on The Bloggess, and had to come see. Your two puppy pics above (“Happy…” and “Less amused…”) made me snort milk out of my nose! Love you, love your puppy, and so happy she’s feeling better 🙂

    • Hey, thanks! The milk snorting feels like an accomplishment on my part! 😉
      My dog says to tell you she loves you, too. Thanks for reading!

  5. I dunno. I’ve had my dog for twelve years long than I’ve had my baby, so maybe I’ll be eating those words soon enough, but I fortunately haven’t had many horrible medical emergencies with either of them, so all I have to compare the two are their regular bodily functions.

    And when my baby shits herself, a couple of wipes and a diaper and we’re good to go. If you’ve ever been caught in a public park with a dog and no baggie, though, if you’ve ever tried scooping up dog shit with a yoghurt lid and a newspaper, well, you can handle anything.

    At least, that’s why I went ahead and had the kid. We’ll see how that goes.

  6. I love how much you love your dog! Such a cute thing its no wonder.

    I’m an animal lover myself and when my kitty went under for surgery and also ripped out her stitches I FREAKED!!!!! I love what you bought your baby rather than the large ass cone! Much better for you and your pup!

    Love your blog. You officially have a new stalker!

  7. Hey, I can’t seem to find an email address. Can you email me back to ask you a question?

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