Chloë Goes Under the Knife

When I didn’t get any breakfast that morning, I knew something was up. After all, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

Chloë’s spaying certificate.

I got spayed. Officially, I had an ovariohysterectomy*. Alas, now I will never be able to know the full palette of my womanhood. But I’m OK with it. The pain was never that bad–and still isn’t. I’ve got good drugs. And  now that it’s over, I’m getting lots of sympathy and special treatment. Mike carries me home after I pee. Heather gently cleans me with a soft, warm washcloth (even my woo-woo) and then lets me gnaw on my rawhide bully stick–in bed! I even overheard that steak and ice cream will be on my menu. This kind of stuff has never happened before. Kids? Who needs ’em? Big pain in the butt; that’s what I heard my own mother say.

*According to PetEducation.com, “An ovariohysterectomy (OHE) or spay is the complete removal of the female reproductive tract. The ovaries, oviducts, uterine horns and the uterus are removed. Not only does this procedure prevent the animal from becoming pregnant, it also eliminates the twice-yearly heat cycles. The surgery removes the source of production of such hormones as estrogen and progesterone that are responsible for stimulating and controlling heat cycles and play a major role during pregnancy. They also have other effects on the body, and some of them are potentially harmful.”

So I’m with the program. ZPG and all that. Everybody at Elliott Bay Animal Hospital said I was a model patient, well behaved AND cute (I’m not too modest to admit). While I was knocked out, I also got a microchip implanted, and the very next day Mike got me a dog license (qualifiying for discounts for having me spayed and for having a City of Seattle Gold Card for Healthy Aging, making Mike very happy!).

Now I’m offcial, just another set of numbers. My days of playing it footloose and fancy-free are coming to a close. I must curtail post-operative activity for at least a week, meaning no long walks, no ball chasing, no roughhousing. and certainly no visits with Frank and Stanley.

Chloë licks her Kong through her Elizabethan collar.

It will be just a lot of lying around. About the most strenuous thing I can do is chew a bully stick or lick a Kong. Life  like that can get boring.

Yeah, it’s really hard laying around all day and getting waited on hand and foot.  I’ll just have to make the most of it.

Chloë catches some zzzzs.

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One response to “Chloë Goes Under the Knife

  1. Pingback: Chloë Makes a Wish « The Diary of a Wiener Dog

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