Zuza, 2013

I found this on my blog list as a draft.  I don't know why I never published it; I suppose that I thought that there was something unfinished about it.  I can't imagine what that was, but I was still seeing myself in the not always complimentary light of working at Briar Patch, so perhaps that was it.

Zuza discovers a Bailey's glass

It was a little more than seven years ago.  Seven years!  Unbelievable that it could be that long ago.  This is a picture from about that same time, sleek coat, two eyes--doesn't feel like I'm asking too much, really.  Zuza had suddenly produced a large mass-like swelling on her belly which scared the crap out of me.  She seemed unconcerned, so it might not have hurt at all, but with her, you never know, she really didn't complain much about anything when she was a bit more mobile and closer to the Spring Chicken time of her life. She still doesn't complain much, but she has fewer ways to do things by herself now, so is required to ask for more help.

So here is my Spring, 2013 entry.  It was entitled, "Zuza, Today"

Zuza, brave little soldier that she is, is doing fine.  The unknown mass turned out to be an inguinal hernia which was easily repaired by our extremely talented surgeon.  Our other two doctors were there for consultation and dental cleaning--no kidding, they stitched her up so fast that they had time to clean her teeth.  Carolyn and I left the building while the surgery was happening.  On one hand, I do believe that there is some degree of consciousness that remains when they are sedated.  On the other hand, as she slipped under sedation and began looking not really very alive...I started to cry and figured if she could tune into me under sedation I better not be looking at her as a limp little creature. I am truly impressed with the quality of the team we now have.  She woke up quickly and, I am told, started looking for us right away.  And since it is Briar Patch and not some giant, impersonal place--and this is the bosses' kid--she went from one person's arms to mine instead of to a cage.  She kissed and kissed both of us and we held her wrapped in a blanket until I took her to work with me in the afternoon. 

Poor Lukas was incredibly worried, kept trying to squeeze as close to her as possible, and tried to clean her incision at any moment he could get in close enough.  She, in her generous way with her brother, growled at him every time he tried, even when she was too tired to lift her head.  Head down, grrrrrrrrrrrrrr, like a little gargle.

When we got home she slept in their bed by the fire with Lukas on guard in their chair next to her.  When any of the cats walked near them, he would lunge out, fiercely warning them away.  Okay, he's 4 pounds and not a rottweiler, but he can sound very, very fierce.  Unless he is frightened by scary stuff.  Like Velcro.  Or unexpected dry grass under his foot.  Or just walking around outside for too long.  Sometimes pooping scares him.  BUT, when he appoints himself a protector, it brings out all of his best self.  When we adopted Tenzing and Eddie, Lukas kept them safe when any of the big cats approached them.  He will still stop any of the cats from hissing or fighting.  And when Tenzing was sick last summer, Luke slept next to his cage and warned even Zuza away from him.

So, right now both of my canines are curled into little packages next to me on the chair.  She has a couple of ugly bruises and a tidy incision, (and me); he has his stuffed fox and a blanket, (and me).  And we're all happy.