Here is the topic that many of you have been asking about.
As the weeks go by, my new coat is growing in and the bald spots where I was shaved are disappearing. I never pay any attention to these areas of baldness. They don’t mean anything to me. I’m not one to pay attention to looks. When I meet a person or a dog, the first thing I do is to sniff and see if the scent is attractive to me. With people, I sense if this person is friendly and most people I meet are friendly so that I’m happy. I never care what another animal or person looks like.
Also, when my parents are out walking me, people stop and stare – fewer now than in the beginning. That didn’t mean anything to me either. When I’m out walking, other things are much more important to me.
But my mom says that it’s time for me to write about this this issue of my bald spots. So here goes:
I have a number of separate places where I was shaved and toward which people point and then ask, “What’s that?” or “What happened here?” And usually I have to stand still so my parents can explain each spot, which is really annoying to me but which I’m getting better about standing still while people talk about me. But let me get back to the story that you want to know.
I was shaved on two occasions. The first time was the first day that I was admitted to the hospital as a patient, right after the accident. This is where I received the large square you see, the bald patch closest to my neck. I was shaved here so that the doctors could apply a patch that contained some medicine so that I did not feel pain. That patch remained on my skin for maybe two weeks.
In addition, the emergency room doctors shaved all around my leg because I had many wounds to my leg that had to be cleaned up and have antibiotic creams applied. One area of my leg had an open wound which Dr. B closed surgically; by that I mean he stapled the skin closed. So my whole leg had to be shaved so that the emergency room team could patch me up.
The next time I was shaved was one month later, right before my ankle surgery. Here the surgeons really went to town shaving my leg. I think they left me some coat – but not much. The whole area had to be clean and sterile for the surgery.
There is also a rectangular spot in the middle of my back, above my tail. This was where I was grounded so that, during the surgery, I did not receive an electric shock.
This sounds strange to a lot of people. I don’t understand any of this so don’t ask me; ask my parents. Actually, don’t even ask my mom because she doesn’t understand about electricity either. Understanding electricity is, to my mom, kind of like my understanding why I cannot dig my way out of the garden: Neither of us gets it. So maybe you can ask my dad. He understands electricity. Or maybe a doctor or veterinarian will make a comment onto my blog and explain it to you. All I can tell you is that it was done to protect me so that I was safe. And that’s the most important thing!
The best thing about telling this story, from my point of view, is that after my mom took the photo of me that you see to the right, during which time I had to stand perfectly still, she said “Good boy!” and gave me a treat.