Week Total 02:48:26
Dog walk, dog fight, hospital visit: 02:03:26
Temp: 11C (outside, sunny and beautiful)
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IN ZONE: 00:12:08/02:03:26 (the last fifteen minutes was the cooldown & stretching)
(Zone: 131 – 193)
AVG: 104 (56%)
MAX: 154 (83%)
Okay, it’s not a normal workout, but I’m fucking taking it anyways.
I was walking my dogs, a good brisk walk, and we were heading home. We were (luckily) about six minutes from home when from a house we passed comes bounding a golden lab. A young one, by the name of Ruby, according to the screaming girls chasing it. It spots us, comes running over and picks Morgana up by the back and shakes the shit out of her. The girls are screaming, beating the dog with a wrapping paper roll. Oscar is losing his mind and trying to bite Ruby. Ruby drops Morgana and goes after Oscar. I yanked the leash and got Oscar out, and the dog picks Morgana up again and shook her right out of her collar. I’ve now got the leash with the chain collar on the end, and I’m whipping the dogs back as he’s mauling my dog (he’s got her in his mouth and is just shaking the shit out of her and she’s screaming and screaming) and I’m screeching “CONTROL YOUR FUCKING DOG”. Finally the dog drops Morgie and races off, with the girls in hot pursuit. I note the address and pick up my dog and start running for home. I look down, and she’s bleeding on my jacket from a gaping wound on her back.
Luckily, Steve was home and jumped in the car with me and we raced her to the vet.
Emergency surgery. She will be in overnight. If she lives. The vet kept telling me over and over how risky anastectic is on a dog her age. Bloodwork is required to tailor the anastetic to her kidney and liver function (which decreases with age). The liver processes the anasthetic, and the kidney removes it, so very important. He told me that he will call me after the surgery “to let me know if she makes it”.
So back to the house I go, with a quote for $8-900 vet bill in hand, only to find the parents aren’t home. Why? Because they are “taking gramma to the hospital”. Oh god. Great timing, huh?
I am sensitive to their situation, and am going to be completely amicable about the whole thing… but I want this bill paid. I’m wearing my dogs blood and waiting to hear if she’s going to live. I’m not happy right now. But I’m willing to even take payments. Whatever. Dogs are dogs, and you can’t get mad at a dog for acting like a dog. But they are still reponsible financially.
Anyway, now I’m rambling… I’m a little freaked out. Look at my heartrate. I’m sure the twelve minutes of being in the zone was between the dog fight and me racing from the vet to their house (I sent Steve home and needed to release energy).
I’ll let you know how it goes…