Resilience, Acceptance and Moving On...
Talk about a crushing blow. Or maybe a ripping blow. Either way, things were blown. September 30th was a beautiful fall day. It was a Friday, I had off work, I ran errands and came home to enjoy the day. I swam the dogs and decided it was definitely the last time for the year. The water was chilly even if the air temps were great. Then I headed out to walk the gang around the yard. They were overjoyed, I was enjoying the great weather and their antics. The dogs ran off toward our hiking path. Nothing out of the ordinary, until it wasn't. I watched as Valley switched direction to cut from the right side of a tree to the left side. In the blink of an eye, it was over. She clipped her right shoulder on the tree. I saw it. I heard it. Instantly she was screaming in pain & crumpled to the ground. I knew it was very, very bad. She could not stand or use her right front leg at all, she was struggling and in pain. I picked her up and rushed back to the house. I was yelling for Steve to come help, while trying to call the clinic and text my friend who works there at the same time. I rushed her to the emergency clinic, where we got the good news, nothing broken, no pneumothorax, nothing except she was in shock, probably had a concussion and a brachial plexus injury. There was no sensation in her leg. I had been thinking about the next week and what my lovely puppy would get to do at CanAm. The next moment I was just hoping she didn't have permanent brain damage and devastated to see her in pain.
I was able to bring Valley home that night. It was very hard to see our sweet girl struggling to move, but with meds her pain was under control. The prevailing advice was wait two weeks to let the swelling go down to see how extensive the damage was to her nerves. To complicate things, we had to leave on Tuesday to set up at CanAm. The logistics of having a puppy who was struggling to walk, while camping and surrounded by concrete was emotionally overwhelming. I am incredibly fortunate, that my wonderful vet offered to watch Valley. So Valley spent a week, chilling and worming her way into their household. She made a mysterious man, we'll only call Jimmy her new daddy. It was an incredible weight lifted. She could easily get out to potty. No carrying her in and out of the camper. Not carrying her thru a huge building to potty. Moreover, not having the mental burden of explaining to people over and over what happened, not having to rehash the horror of seeing her hit that tree. I was still processing what happened. Over and over I would hear Valley's screams in my head. It was a lot to deal with. I felt like a zombie for a lot of the week. I could not give flyball 100%. I knew that, but I tried very hard. I felt guilty for knowing my head wasn't in the game. I felt guilty for feeling guilty because I know I'm hard on myself. Valley, meanwhile, was learning how to get around on 3 legs just fine.
When we got back, Valley was still within that 2 week recovery period but it wasn't looking good. We hoped we were seeing some improvement but it wasn't much. We tried some therapies but the recommendation was to see a Neurologist. Ha. Anyone tired to get into any veterinary specialist lately? Strings were pulled, connections reached out to...and on October 17th we squeaked into a Neuro appt. I hoped they had some magic wand to wave, but we already knew there was a strong possibility that amputation would be the end point. Her leg was still dangly, it was in her way, but we kept hearing wait 6 months, wait 6 months. For what? Would she have any return of function? What kind of function? The neurologist had bad news and again mentioned waiting 6 months, but that it was unlikely that she would regain function. Valley did a really good job when she hit that tree. No one wants to tell you there is no hope. I wanted to know that there was no hope. I pressed him hard for answers. When dogs do recover from this type of injury, did they look like Valley did now? The answer was no. I was fine with amputation, I knew the deal, dogs end up injuring the leg they can't feel. You have to protect it. You have to keep them from eating their own leg too. I mean...it's a real thing that happens with this type of injury. We already saw that the leg was in her way as she adapted. Many tears were shed as I accepted his answer that she would not regain any function. It was better knowing that than being in limbo for 6 more months. Then still amputate. Better to do it now while she's younger and get on with life. It was time to accept a far different path for Valley, but in many ways an easier one. The next day, Valley's amputation was scheduled for 10/27. Not what anyone wants to happen to their 5 month old puppy, but it is what it is.
Off to U-Fli Champs, my head was like 80% in the game. That was better than 2 weeks prior. Valley got to go back to Daddy Jimmy & the land of cuddles. She certainly made some fans at my vet's house! Amputation scheduled, things no longer up in the air. I began to hope again. Hope that Valley could have a pretty normal life. Valley has never thought she couldn't have a fun life. Me, well Valley is my long planned for puppy, the culmination of a lot of dreams. She had so much potential for sports, and now, we shift our expectations. It's a loss, but lost potential isn't really quantifiable (except in physics...very quantifiable). Most importantly, we didn't lose her. Valley is still the same silly, happy girl. I struggled so much with what happened to her. How could I have prevented it? Why didn't I go a different direction on the walk. Maybe I should chop down all my trees? Never let the dogs run free? Accidents happen. Shit happens. Doesn't make it easier to know that. It doesn't make it easier to see your sweet puppy struggling. So we dropped off Valley and we picked her up Valley, minus the dangly leg, plus a lot of staples. She had to stay quiet initially, but you could instantly see that she was moving better without that leg.
Valley 3.0
Just after amputation & restarting training
Life moves on, we have let her figure out how to run again, to play again, to tug again, to live her zestiest life. Now when you see her run, you do a double take. Nope, still 3 paws, but she's making the most of those 3. I worry about teaching her to play flyball safely. I know I can, it's just an extra worry. I worry about her long term stress on that remaining leg. We got some great advice on how to help her avoid overuse of the remaining front leg. How to prepare her for possibly needing a cart some day, hopefully long in the future. Valley healed well, she's adjusted very well. Sometimes she trips or falls but she gets up and gets back in action. It'll likely take me longer to let go of the what ifs, if only, doubts and worries. It certainly has been a wild few months, and I need to remind myself that I can be as resilient and accepting as Valley is. Recently a teammate said, this would be so sad, except that Valley is so happy. And she is, Valley loves life, she doesn't care. That's really all I want for her. That's really what I want for all my dogs.
As a sports competitor, it's easy to get wrapped up in what dogs can do. Flyball...is all about speed. Valley was impressing me even as a young puppy. However when this happened, my dreams for her crumbled. I felt crushed. Then I slowly rebuilt those dreams. She is happy. She is super fun to train. She is exactly the same as she has always been. For that, I am so grateful. She is still my dream puppy, we just have some new challenges in how we move forward. Valley doesn't crumble under a challenge, and I won't either.
