I’m not a heavy sleeper. I have no idea what it feels like to sleep soundly throughout the night while my child fusses, coughs or cries. I also have no idea how it feels to sleep while one’s dog struggles to push beyond the effects of anesthesia. The latter of which being the reason why I’m sitting here now, so early in the morning with one sock worn inside out, glasses perched at the end of my nose and pajamas covered with long, white dog hair.
My faithful English setter had his teeth cleaned yesterday. And the doctor was pretty certain going in that he would need to have a tooth, or two, removed. Unlike my white boxer who enjoys visiting the vet, my setter dreads the experience to the point that he nearly shakes his skin loose once the Jeep pulls into the parking lot of the doctor’s office. His feelings became evident again yesterday while he sat next to me, trembling like a leaf, as we waited for the doctor.
The one to two teeth scheduled to be extracted, ended up being twelve teeth, a fact that will in no way help to change his opinion of the dreaded vet, veterinary office or it's parking lot.
After plunking him down on his bed yesterday afternoon, my hope was that by nightfall he would be able to stand and move around on his own. He still hasn’t reached that point.
Needless to say, it was a sleepless night. With every movement he made, my eyes popped open. When he tried to reposition himself, by way of lumbering movements and a good deal of banging around, I shot up in bed like a body suddenly brought back to life. At 3:00am he had potty troubles; the noise of which launched me from the bed like a rocket. He couldn’t help his sorry state anymore than I could help mine. Every half hour I was either soothing him, or moving his body so I could freshen his bed. He’s not a small dog mind you. And it’s amazing what one small person can do under the cover of darkness while in a zombie-like trance. Note to self: as I age, consider small dogs instead of those of the heavy behemoth variety.
With every flinch the dopey setter made, my boxer sprung from her bed like a tightly coiled spring. She was and still is, nearly out of her mind with worry over her best friend. While calming the one dog, the other had her square head resting on my shoulder; her eyes fixed on her out-of-sorts companion. I tried to ease her mind while I tried to ease his.
By 4:00am it became clear that sleep was not to be found. While my body lay motionless in bed, with my eyes staring into the darkness I was reminded of when my kids were young. I never was the type of mother that could sleep while my children were under the weather. I also was never the type of mother that could grab a much needed nap once my baby’s finally fell asleep during the day. Instead, just as the welcomed heavy blanket of slumber would settle over me, my child would fidget, fuss or wake-up. And of course, so would I.
I'm hoping that today will bring the return of my best bud, and his sister will see that he is indeed fine. And maybe at some point in the day after I’ve finished my work, I can steal some rest before everyone’s sonar system signals them to call or stop by. I’ve always found it odd that I can go an entire day without one phone call, until I either sit down to eat or try to nap. Either way, let’s hope that sometime soon my setter’s eyelids will once again be positioned over his eyeballs as they are intended, instead of below his eyes as they are now.
Sane
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