Got a call from the vet at quarter past five. Sophie is fine, albeit a little groggy. The vet told me that I shouldn't be alarmed, but Sophie looked like a car wreck, and that she has an Elizabethan collar on. All I wanted to know is "When can I get her?"
We were there five minutes later. Bob paid the bill (grumbling), while I went in the back to get my Sophie. She had a tumor on her lower eyelid, so her left eye is stitched. She's also all wet and icky looking because they had to wash a lot of blood off her head. Still, she wanted her Mama.
She got shots of pain killers and antibiotics, so we don't have to bother with pills tonight. Unfortunately, it makes her a little groggy, and with the collar, she keeps bumping into things. Bob found this to be hysterically funny, so I called him any number of foul names. Fortunately, he didn't see me taking her out to do her business - she kept trying to sniff the ground and filling her Elizabethan collar with snow.
Sophie has to go back on Friday morning to get the eye stitches removed, and will have to wear the dratted collar for a week. My poor little doggie.
She's here and at my feet. DD tried to coax her away to give her a cuddle, but no dice. That doggie isn't moving off my feet. I'm so glad she's all right, but I feel like a limp dishrag from all the worrying.
Kathy N-V