More specifically, his testicles have a date with destiny that is overdue. We should not have waited until he was a year and a half old to decide...Here's why:
[Warning: Lengthy]
[Also, these pics will be familiar to some but not everyone.]
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We've loved watching our two Yorkies and our new rescue pup building their "pack" relationship while we get to know "the new guy." Finn looks like an over-sized Yorkie who might have some poodle genes lurking about the curly hair on his haunches. Unfortunately, we were told nothing about his background at the shelter so there are a lot of things that make us scratch our heads, but it's been great fun to watch him coming out of his shell. He healed well from neutering and has adjusted to his new diet, initially gaining two pounds but now trending downward with a half pound loss already. His joy at being "home" is contagious--he is so happy, so accommodating to humans and especially his Yorkie baby sister, I'm just head-over-heels for this guy.
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But...
We knew there would be adjustments and some "scuffles" as the shelter staff described them. We were given tips to help the dogs re-align themselves with the new dynamic, and with a couple of exceptions (Finn's new obsession with the cat being one), adjustments have been pretty easily managed. Something we didn't see coming, though, happened over the weekend when I turned on the garden hose and Finn (the rescue) lost his mind. I didn't have time to determine if he was fearful and attacking the water or excitedly playing with it because my male Yorkie (who is a muscular twelve pounds with incredibly strong jaws) immediately attacked Finn. With two adults, three dogs, a running water-hose, a host of neighbors, and a lot of noise, it took seemingly forever to get everyone's teeth out of pack-mates' bodies and reluctantly tucked away.
The emergency vet (holiday weekend here in the States) was very kind and everyone was understanding about Finn's possibly difficult past--the vet even thanked us, genuinely, for adopting him from a shelter. He was forgiven for screaming wildly in the waiting area when Mom tried to let Dad hold him for a few minutes while her arm rested. He normally doesn't like to be held much at all, but was insisting on being cradled, all four feet aloft. I was conscious of the fact that none of the other "pet parents" were holding their "furkids" this way, although one was a turtle and another weighed somewhere around 150 lbs., so that would make sense. The staff explained to me that some of their patients are "just like toddlers" when they hurt and must be treated as such. So, Mommy continued to hold Finn and the staff prepared for him a strong sedative. In order for vet staff to do anything, they later informed me, he had to again be cradled in feminine arms. (He's not actually an aggressive dog--his "crime" is being very happy and high-energy which unnerves Keegan, who has always been a fearful fellow.) They also reported that Finn "looooves hydromorphone."
The injuries to his foreleg and his chest have been healing well. We didn't have the heart to use the cone of shame but bought it anyway just in case. He's tolerating the antibiotics well, also, and I've stopped giving pain meds to see how he does without them. We're keeping the boys separated, and--although Keegan completed a training course last year--we are going back to basics re: obedience training. Due to Finn's injuries, we can't do much walking to drain energy, but reinforcing our basic training seems like a good start to taking charge of any dissension among the ranks.
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And Keegan's appointment to have his dangle-y bits altered has been moved up by two weeks. Less than 36 hrs. to go. I feel somewhat guilty that I worried so much about Piper prior to her surgery, worried only slightly about Finn before his, and am mostly anxious to get started with regard to Keegan's surgery. It's important that it go well for ALL our health and safety. And I want it done two weeks ago!
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