The night Marlo got in a fight with Misha was probably the most traumatic night of my life. No kidding. I’m not easily upset or scared, and I can be really calm during emergencies and stressful situations. But when I saw my puppy in a fight with another dog, I have to admit I lost it a little bit. I screamed, I yelled and I cried. Breaking up a dog fight can be really scary, and all the ‘NO!’ yelling and screaming didn’t really help at all, but I did it anyway. Part of me was hoping the yelling would distract the dogs and maybe make them stop fighting, but part of it came from an emotional reaction to a terrible situation.
Watching Marlo get hurt was a terrible experience; I felt powerless to help her, even though I was doing all I could to break up the fight. Taking her to the vet was even scarier. The whole way there, she was fairly calm and just looking out the window like she normally does on car rides. I was worried that there was something very wrong with her, especially since she wasn’t acting like she was in pain. She was also bleeding a lot. Though now I realize it wasn’t actually that much blood, I was worried that it would take too long to get to the vet, and she would die on the way. All of these irrational fears were running around in my head for the whole trip.
Once we got to the vet, I felt a lot better. The people at the clinic were very nice, and the doctor explained everything to me very calmly, which helped me calm down a bit. Making the final choice to remove Marlo’s eye, however, was very difficult. The vet said there was very little chance that the eye could be saved, and that even if it was, there was a pretty big risk of infection and complications later on. He reassured me that dogs do very well without an eye, but I was worried about a lot of things: Would she be able to see as well with one eye? Would her personality change because of the fight and the loss of her eye? Would I be grossed out by her lack of an eye? Would she live through the surgery?
Once I got back home (while Marlo was still at the vet), I really felt like I’d just been hit by a train. My body felt physically heavy, and I was tired, worried, and sad all at the same time. I was able to go to sleep, but once I woke up in the morning, my head started racing again, worrying about my puppy.
Watching Marlo get hurt was a terrible experience; I felt powerless to help her, even though I was doing all I could to break up the fight. Taking her to the vet was even scarier. The whole way there, she was fairly calm and just looking out the window like she normally does on car rides. I was worried that there was something very wrong with her, especially since she wasn’t acting like she was in pain. She was also bleeding a lot. Though now I realize it wasn’t actually that much blood, I was worried that it would take too long to get to the vet, and she would die on the way. All of these irrational fears were running around in my head for the whole trip.
Once we got to the vet, I felt a lot better. The people at the clinic were very nice, and the doctor explained everything to me very calmly, which helped me calm down a bit. Making the final choice to remove Marlo’s eye, however, was very difficult. The vet said there was very little chance that the eye could be saved, and that even if it was, there was a pretty big risk of infection and complications later on. He reassured me that dogs do very well without an eye, but I was worried about a lot of things: Would she be able to see as well with one eye? Would her personality change because of the fight and the loss of her eye? Would I be grossed out by her lack of an eye? Would she live through the surgery?
Once I got back home (while Marlo was still at the vet), I really felt like I’d just been hit by a train. My body felt physically heavy, and I was tired, worried, and sad all at the same time. I was able to go to sleep, but once I woke up in the morning, my head started racing again, worrying about my puppy.
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