If you haven't read the other posts, you can catch up here and here.
And if you have a really weak stomach, then this story isn't for you.
After I bandaged Max up and fed him, I went to rest in the living room. About 5 minutes later, Max comes bouncing through the living room with blood streaming down his furry little face.
A little unnerving.
I was right. He had tried to take the bandage off. But he couldn't. So he kept clawing at it.
Another 30 minutes later we were headed towards the emergency vet in town. I'd grabbed my neighbor for a second opinion, and he agreed that the would was so big, there's just nothing we could do at home anymore. So a co-worker helped me with a ride to the vet (remember, Josh is out of town? yeah...).
Once we get there, I walk in and immediately let the lady know that my dog has an open, bleeding head wound.
And then a whole new nightmare began. It's like when you hear a mom talking about how they rushed to the hospital and then had to fill out tons of paperwork and wait for a long time before they were ever seen?
Yup. She hands me a clipboard and tells me to fill out 2 pages worth of info. Now, I understand that they need to know who I am and all, so I fill it out as quickly as possible, noting the sign that says, "Pets will be seen in order of severity of the emergency." Or something like that.
I was thinking, "Thank goodness!"
And then some people walked in with their cat, talked to the nurse briefly, who then ushered them back. Same thing with another dog a minute later.
I'm thinking... "Wow... wonder what is going on-- they must be really bad off!"
I turned in the paperwork, only to wait another 30 minutes.
We finally got into a private room, and after another hour, we saw the vet.
And another 30 minutes later, Max actually got taken care of.
And another hour later, Max was doctored up. E-collar and all.
I covered the nasty stuff up for you, but this little flower just barely covered it.
But it is a little girly.
Here we go, this is better!