The Perilous Adventures of Hershey the Aptly-Named Chocolate Lab: Part 3

(Continued from the previous posts, The Perilous Adventures of Hershey, the Aptly-Named Chocolate Lab: Part 1 and Part 2. Be sure to read those for the back-story.)

Hershey didn't feel like pushing it when we got to Veterinary Regional Referral Hospital (which I now highly recommend) in Decatur. I let two staff members pick him up out if the van and put him on the stretcher to wheel him into the area where they'd prep him for surgery. When he got on the stretcher, he perked up and then sat up so he wouldn't miss anything. I pulled my camera out too late to take a photo.

After getting him checked in and waiting for a short while, my son and daughter listened with me as the surgeon, Dr. Mullins, explained what would be necessary if she was to save Hershey's left front leg. It would require two rods going through the bone above and below the break, connected by another rod on the outside of his leg. Recover time would be anywhere from six to a whopping 20 weeks (!).

The other option was amputation -- the medical way of saying Hershey would have his leg cut off.

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The Perilous Adventures of Hershey the Aptly-Named Chocolate Lab: Part 2

(Continued from the previous post, "The Perilous Adventures of Hershey, the Aptly-Named Chocolate Lab: Part 1". Be sure to read that post first for the back-story.)

Waking several hours later, I got ready for the day and woke my son Nelson so he could help me get Hershey to the veterinarian. Though I knew my wife would want to go with us, she'd been sick and I hoped she would be able to recover by staying in and drinking fruit juice, etc. Throughout the morning, as I had done the night before, I prayed a prayer that would've been totally understood by my six-year-old self years before when my dog Astro had died: "Lord, please let Hershey survive. Please heal any internal injuries."

Because I've become so spiritual, you see, I realized that that was a very selfish prayer. You know, the kind we're not supposed to pray. God would probably not give me the thumbs-up on it unless I added, "...for Your glory." Knowing that He would very likely not be fooled by me putting a spin on my prayer, however, I decided not to say that. I'm a little embarrassed by all this, but in retrospect I realize this is exactly what was going on in my head.

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The Perilous Adventures of Hershey the Aptly-Named Chocolate Lab: Part 1

I won't be able to fit all of Monday's events into one post. This is, therefore, part one of the Hershey saga.

We arrived home from our weekend trip around 1:30am on Monday. Hershey the Slobbering Spring-Loaded Puppy, our nine-year-old chocolate lab (who thinks he's a puppy), typically runs to the car to drool on us as a means of saying, "Where have you been?! It's about time the rest of the pack got home!"

He didn't do that this time. Instead he remained lying on the front porch, dead center of the front door, only lifting his head to see us and wagging his tail slightly.

When we approached him (quickly) he was apparently unable to get up and when I tried to move him, he whimpered. Very unusual, very wrong. Eventually, with my son Nelson's careful help, Hershey struggled and stood, and we could see that his right front leg was of no use to him.

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