So we head behind our building with the now one-armed monkey toy (a whole other bizarre Daisy story) to run around. A few minutes into this I notice that her paw is red, then I realize she's bleeding. Yuck. She doesn't even seem to notice, but the paranoid in me starts freaking out. I chase her upstairs and into the apartment. Well duh me. If she didn't pay attention to it when she was standing in dirt, she is not going to pay attention to it in the house. Next thing I know she is prancing around the apartment leaving little bloody splotches every where she steps. About this time I start screaming hysterically which she takes as a game and barks along with me. I finally corral her into the bathroom to wipe her paw off and clean up all the spots. At this point it is time for me to head over to some friends' house for the big game (GO PACKERS!). In my infinite veterinary wisdom I tied a sock around her paw with a hair tie.
A day passes and everything seems fine. Silly me, I should know by now things are never very easy. Monday evening she is playing catch with herself when she reopens the wound and the blood begins to flow all over the apartment, again. The scene from the previous day repeats itself, but this time I wise up and call the vet. Too bad it is 6:00pm and I now have to call the emergency vet. A minute later the vet tech has me convinced she is going to get an infection and her whole leg is going to fall off. To the vet we go!
To anyone who has ever gone to the emergency vet, you know that it costs an arm and a leg just to walk in the door. Two hours and $150 later Daisy's split toe nail (yes that is all it was) is now no more and we are bound for home. The vet sends us off with instructions to avoid stairs and rest easy. I learn on the way to the car why we're staying away from challenging obstacles; she is so drugged up she runs into a parked car! A good night's sleep and she's all better. A picture below to remember her at one of her finer moments:
Fast forward to tonight when we're out walking and the stupid paw starts bleeding AGAIN. At this point the carpet cleaner isn't doing much and I'm regretting not letting the deadgum paw fall off. After yet another call to the vet tech (we're on a first name basis, her name is Stacey and we're biffles now) I learn I'm to put her paw in a bowl of flour or cornstarch. Lucky Daisy I was in a Betty Crocker mood last week and have both. The awkward paw in flour creates a whole new mess to clean up, but the blood stopped! Time will only tell whether it actually stays gone. I'm choosing not to ponder why they didn't just tell me this the first time I called. The moral of this story? You too can pay $150 to give your dog a pedicure if you call the vet after hours.
PS-I'm petitioning the vet to pay the cleaning lady's bill.
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