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Here is my time line for my rehabilitation from my injury.  In general, my parents and my doctors made these decisions, not I.  If my parents took me swimming, I went swimming. If they took me running, we went running. They decided how far, how fast, and how long I was to be out and walking, running, or swimming.  I guess in the end they made the right decisions, because I’m doing really well now. I’m not even limping!

Day 1: I was hit by the car and brought to the emergency room of the animal medical center.  When I went home six days later, I had a full-splint on my leg.

During this time, I may only go outside to pee and poop and then must go back home. I must walk slowly.

Week 5, Day 3: I have surgery on my broken ankle, though I’m asleep and don’t know what’s going on.   When I go home, I have a half-splint on my leg.

During this time, I may only go outside to pee and poop. I walk slowly.

Week 12, Day 3: I go back to the animal medical center for a bandage change. It has been 7 weeks since my surgery. Although he was going to only take x-rays at this time, my doctor removes my splint!

Since I’m allowed to go upstairs and downstairs, my parents let me go up and down a lot so that my muscles begin to strengthen.  Of course, since I’m on my lead, I can’t go up and down too much, but I do it as often as they will allow me, and as many times as they will allow me. When I am home alone, my parents keep me in the living room and close the little door gate. They don’t want me jumping up on anything.

Week 13:  Day 3: I go back to the animal medical center for x-rays on my broken ankle. It has been 8 weeks since my surgery. My doctor removes my bandages!

During this time, my leg muscles continue to start working again.I’m still walking with a limp.  When I am outside and I start to hop on three legs, my parents slow me down so that I use all four legs.

My walks start out short. Then they get longer. Then they get longer and longer. Then they get longer and longer and faster and faster.  My mom is walking longer and longer and faster and faster, too. This is good for me.

Week 16: It has been 11 weeks since my surgery. I’m running and playing in the back yard. My parents are throwing the ball and I’m chasing it and bringing it back. However, we don’t play this game for too long.

Week 17: It has been 12 weeks since my surgery. I’m walking well enough and I’m strong enough to take a walk around the block with my sister and littermate, Rosie. I am still walking with a limp.

My parents take me to the lake for the first time!  My mom walks me around the edge of the lake but I do some swimming, too. I go to the lake a few times this week and I am swimming, usually in place, with my mom holding me up by my harness.  My legs are getting stronger and stronger and I’m feeling better and better.

Week 19:  It has been 14 weeks since my surgery. Dad takes me running with him. We run for one block!

Week 20: It has been 15 weeks since my surgery. Dad takes me running with him. We run for five minutes!  Then we walk.  The next day we don’t run and the next day we run again for 5 minutes again.  I’m feeling stronger.  Jane takes me on long walks and she doesn’t’ let me stop and rest until we get to our destination, or until we get home.

Week 22: It has been 17 weeks since my surgery. Dad and I run for ten minutes!  The next day we don’t run and the next day we run again for 10 minutes again.  Then the next day we don’t and the next day we do.  I’m feeling stronger and my parents say that they don’t see me limp when I run. They say “Other than the bald spot on his back, you wouldn’t know he was hit by a car.”

Week 25: It has been 20 weeks (5 months) since my surgery. Dad and I run for twenty minutes!  This is our “short” run.  I’m feeling good.  I’m not limping.  We do this run now a few times a week, one day yes one day no one day yes one day no.  During the afternoons, Jane takes me on long walks and she even tries to run for a block or two with me, but I’m much faster than she is and I’m always ahead of her looking back at her. They still say say “Other than the bald spot on his back, you wouldn’t know he was hit by a car.”

Week 25: It has been 20 weeks (5 months) since my surgery.

My dad says “Twenty minutes may be it for him.”   I’m going to do my best to run longer and longer and further and further.

My doctor says that I’m “a healthy dog”.  I love my doctor!

Week 26: It has been 21 weeks (5 months, 1 week) since my surgery.

I love my life! I go to new places and see new things. I meet new people and new dogs. I make many new friends, both people and dogs.  Everybody is surprised at how well I do.  When I’m off-lead, I obey my mom when she says “come”. At night I don’t limp.

But I do sleep well!

I’d like to show you the new bag for my leg.

high-tech bag

This new bag, or bootie, replaces the old plastic small wastebasket bag that was formerly put on my leg each time we went out.

low-tech bag

Initially, when my parents wanted to take me outside, they would put on my sock and over that the white plastic wastebasket bag, and then they would either get some tape and tape the plastic bag closed or they would twist and twist the top and tie that so that the bag stayed on me. It seemed to take forever, especially because it was hard for me to remain still while I was so full of anticipation of going outside.

Now the sock goes on and over the sock goes this little black bootie. It’s so quick. And that means I get outside faster.

Jane is trying to teach me a new word, “Lift”.  It’s debatable whether I actually understand her when she says “Lift” because at the same time she also taps my foot lightly, signaling that I’m supposed to lift my leg just high enough that she can put the sock on.  Meanwhile I have to balance myself on three legs. Did you ever try that – balancing yourself on three legs?  Then we go through this “Lift” routine again, this time for the medipaw bag. But I’m perfectly happy to let her believe that I’ve added one more word to my vocabulary.

The hardest part for me is still staying still while my parents are fussing around with my leg and these bags.  My mind is focused on being outside and I’m so excited that I cannot stay still. This is where the medipaw bootie makes my parents happy. They slip this bag over the sock, make sure that it’s facing in the right direction, tie one velco tie, tie the other velcro tie, then pull the elastic tab to close off the top.

It takes less than a minute if I am standing still.  It takes forever to do if I am moving around.

I support improvements in technology.

Since I’m not allowed out of the living room, except to take my short walk twice daily to pee and poop, I feel particularly lonely in the evening, when my dad is home from work, but I’m limited to the one room.  Many evenings my parents will come into the living room and sit down on the sofa and talk to each other there, just so that I’m not so alone. I get a little attention, and I feel comforted just listening to them talk to each other, and sometimes to me. Sometimes they bring their dinner into the living room and eat their dinner there.  It is nice to be with my family!

There are other times when I really need my rest (or they really need their rest) and so they say “Joey, go to your bed.”  Once they know I’m lying down in my bed, they will kiss me on the top of my head and give me a pat on my head or gently on my sore belly.  Then they turn out the living room lights and softly say “Good night, Joey.”

The instructions also tell the distance and way that I am allowed to walk every day.

The way I am walked is a difficult adjustment. Even though I was wounded just a short while ago, I continue to want to run around outside and make friends with the whole, wide, wonderful world; nevertheless, because my dad and mom are following “instructions”, they won’t let me do that anymore.

As I mentioned before, I love to run, and before the accident I would run with my dad early every morning, sometimes in the dark before the sun had even risen. Because we would run so early in the morning way before the first faint lights of neighbors awakening going on, one room at a time, when there aren’t any other dogs or people around, he would allow me to run with without a leash. At those times, I would fly like the wind, with my nose up high, in step with my dad!

Now, we go outside, Dad and I, or sometimes my Mom and I, and sometimes Dad, Mom and I together walk me up the block and back home again, on my lead at all times, and then I have to go back inside.  As soon as I poop, we turn around and go back home.  I wish we could stay out longer, but they’re following the doctor’s orders.

I even have to be on my lead when we go into the back yard because they’re afraid that I’m going to chase squirrels or something. Would I do a thing like that? Absolutely! They know that chasing squirrels is one of my hobbies.  After all, Labrador Retrievers were bred to retrieve small animals such as birds and squirrels that had been hunted for game and for food.  Running after small animals is in our nature.

Sometimes Dad wants me to walk free; at those times, Mom will say to Dad that “We have to follow the doctor’s orders”. Then she says to him, “You want him to be able to run again, right?” She knows that my three toes and my broken ankle need a lot of time to heal, and to heal correctly.   When she says that, I feel alright, because, honestly, I do want to be able to run again. And so does Phil!

In this photo you can get a sense my occasional frustration.

But I’m not complaining!

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