My birthday was lovely and on Thursday night I put my head on my pillow full of happy thoughts about the year to come. On Friday morning, I woke up full of phlegm and with a super sore throat. Rather than go out among productive adults doing adult things, I took to my bed to read the book* my beloved husband gave me as a present. In between naps, of course.
During one of those naps, our cat McGregor snuggled up on the bed with me. The corgi, who had wandered off in search of snacks, came back into the room, discovered the snuggly cat situation, and decided that was a Thing That Must End. Cats are really good at cornering when running at full speed; corgis are not. HRH Lucy did something painful to her back left stump, so much so that she wouldn't put any weight on it.
She spent the rest of the evening like a giant, smelly lap blanket. She didn't seem to be in extreme pain and would let us poke and prod at the stump in question -- but it was pretty clear something didn't feel right.
She still refused to walk on all four legs the next morning so off to the vet, who doped her up, took an x-ray, and shrugged. Nothing looked obviously broken or ruptured. His advice was to manage the pain and keep her as still as possible, which was a piece of cake while she slept off the sedation.
Saturday corgi was a groggy corgi, one who just kept staring off into the middle distance, like she could see sounds.
It's been harder to keep her relatively chill now that the heavy drugs are out of her system. Yesterday, she spent a good deal of time hanging out in the divot under the pine trees in our backyard.
Today, we've kept her crated while we're at work, which she didn't resist in the least. She's still not putting weight on her foot, though, which is troubling. And simultaneously hysterically funny because corgis look even sillier when they are doing a three-legged hop around the dining room.
* It's great fun and a quick read, which was perfect for a sick day.