Paisle had an interesting day today. The morning was normal enough--lots of time outside as it was 13 degrees even before the sun made an appearance. It snowed most of the day--dusting really--and the temp went all the way up to 23. What a great day to play with the new Jolly Ball!
I had planned on making today's post all about the Jolly Ball, but other events booted the new toy to below the fold news.
Paisle and Marshal were throwing the new toy around, with reckless abandon. M also threw Paisle around a bit, also with reckless abandon. I don't know the exact motion that did it, but I heard a shot like a rifle and looked up to see a tangle of Crew members in the raspberries fall apart with the Bean looking at me sideways.
She'd banged her head into the corner of the teak patio chair that is frozen in the ground, by the raspberry bushes. She hobbled toward me, listing a bit, and the chunk of hair and skin missing above her left eye was obvious. I warned off M, who wanted to keep playing, and ushered her inside.
Her left eye remained clear. She sat in the kitchen, watching me but squinting a bit like her head hurt (what a shock). I went to the kennel to get a blanket and wrap her up, knowing she might get chilled as a side affect of shock, and to warm her after being outside for the past 30 minutes. Her scalping did not bleed, but remained bright white. It's about the size of my fingertip.
I picked her up and put her on the footstool the dogs use as a day bed. She followed all my moves, completely cognizant of her surroundings. We sat there looking at each other. Then she sneezed.
Blood went everywhere, and remained dripping out of her nose. I rushed for the phone to call the Emergency room, and she sneezed again, this time on the rug, with the same shower of blood everywhere.
We arrived at the emergency room, just behind two other people, both of whom had their animals in carrying cases. One was clearly a cat by the sounds it made. We were ushered into a room where Paisle's vitals were taken, then asked to wait at they went through triage with the others. The vet tech asked me to yell if Paisle passed out or started having convulsions.
An hour later, I went out into the hall, asking if we'd be seen soon. Paisle's bleeding had subsided to snot markings--snuffles on the edge of the garbage can, the cabinet containing vet tech things, the wall, the floor, the door. For some unknown reason, I'd had the forsight to bring the Purple with us, which brought delight to Paisle. She finally asked to go out, so we ventured forth from the room a second time, heading outside. Her scalping had started oozing the tiniest amount of blood, but did not drip.
I do not want to minimize the trauma going on in the emergency facility. One of the pets that came in before us had just been hit by a car. I know they were able to stabilize the pooch, but I am unclear of the extent of damage. I do know, however, that whatever it wounds were, a mop was required to clean up the body fluids from the tech room floor. After the dog was moved to the back room, Paisle and I could hear it crying. Another dog had also just come in with congenital heart failure, so since the Bean was stable, she'd fallen far down the priority guest list.
We were finally seen by a young vet, who apologized profusely for the wait. Paisle climbed all over him, tail wagging, showing him the Purple. She had been asleep on the cold floor before he came in, while I'd watched her like a hawk for any sign of convulsive behavior. As soon as he opened the door, however, she jumped up with the Purple, and greeted him properly.
He needed a bit of help holding her wiggle butt still so he could listen to her organs, and he closely examined her head. Prognosis--this was a good bump, not quite a goose egg, but no lasting damage. I explained the sneezing blood, and pointed out the evidence of continued bleeding around the room. By pressing and holding the scalping, he told me he was feeling for fratures, or even bubbling which would indicate the orbital bone had punctured her sinuses, allowing air to bubble into her skull. Her eyes were equally dilated, another good sign she does not have a fractured skull nor a concussion.
Since we'd been there so long, he was fairly certain any seizures due to brain swelling would have already started. Watching her play with the Purple, he indicated she seemed sharp and well aware of her surroundings, not dizzy nor unstable on her feet.
The blood could be from ruptured vessels in the sinuses, or perhaps from some of the smaller, fragile bones also in the sinuses. Both of these rely on Father Time for healing. He said the real danger would be if blood started dripping from her nostrils, but as of this writing, 6 hours now, there has not been any dripping. She has not sneezed since the first two splatterings. Keep her quiet for a few days, he said, and if you notice something, please call us. We left,after more than 2 hours.
I am freaked out by this accident, because of how Bandit died when Nina and I were in high school. Bandit was Nina's dog. She was hit by a car while out running with our dad. I don't remember if we took her to the vet, but the whites of her eyes were blood red from broken blood vessels. A few days later she started having seizures. A few days after that, at age 6, she died.
Paisle is eating dinner now, with her usual gusto. When she finishes, I'll put her back in her crate--not her favorite real estate but safe, comfortable, and washable if she should start sneezing, or worse. It is also located right next to where I sit, so convenient for me, too.
I am hoping this is nothing more than a big bump on her little head.
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