Poor Broken Louie

King Louie had a grand weekend in the spring weather, running through the yard with our house guests and the pack of french dogs. King Louie's cast didn't do so well with the activity. It slipped down off the joint that it was to be protecting.

Back story. Louie outgrew his cast at his weekly checkup last Wednesday. They had to put a new one on him that actually fit. On Thursday, the new cast slipped down on his leg and exposed the joint that was to be covered. He had his cast cut off, re-applied, and taped into place.

So now we know that this is the second time this second cast became ineffective. How awesome, no? The vet said that casted dog legs are buggers to deal with, and I kind of believe him. It's a frustration for the vet, for me, and for Louie. But we all muddle through because I broke the dog.

So after the visit to the vet today, and an x-ray, the vet determined that we'd just let the cast off. But Louie has to be on strict crate rest for a solid week. (Insert: I laughed at the "crate rest." That's vet speak for "bed rest," of course.)

I brought Louie home and put him in his crate. He's not happy. He whines when he can't see me. If I go outside, he howls. This is going to be a long week. I'm probably going to look at doggie carriers, like baby carriers, on Amazon and then kick myself for even thinking of buying one because I'll look like a dork. I'll probably end up carrying the dog around half my day like a newborn baby. He's not spoiled at all, you know. But for crying out loud, I'm the one who broke him.

And then I took him outside to go potty. You guys, Louie can't walk. Bless his wee heart, he can't walk. I swear his broken leg is shorter than his other back leg and he has to stretch to have it touch the ground. And of course it's sore, so he limps. At one point he fell over because it was defunct. I felt like 2 cents watching him struggle. After that he was a little more glad to be in his crate. Until he couldn't see me.

This is going to be a very long week.