Happy Fourth!?

I cannot believe what a day this has been. Happily, there's a lot more to go, and perhaps I can turn this day around before it's too late.

Shwea's paw began bleeding (yes, again) this morning--well, bleeding isn't quite descriptive enough. Her paw began spurting.

If I was one of those "faint when seeing blood" types, I'd have been out cold since about 10:00 this morning. Instead, I wrapped her up as best I could, hoping we could stop the bleeding with pressure and such. However, she bled through two gauze bandages and a baggie in no time, and when she continued to spurt after I put another big bandage on, we decided it was time for the emergency room.

Shwea and I have been to this emergency vet before--in fact, I had typed up directions taped to my file cabinet just in case I had to go there again. Good thing, for I was on the road with Shwea by about 10:30 or so.

My goddess, the place was busy. How busy? We arrived around 11:15 or so, and it's now a little after 4:00--and we've been home about 30 minutes.

Shwea needs to see her regular vet ASAP this week, for the ER vet just put in staples and said there obviously is something causing this paw to keep opening up, so it's time for a biopsy. And perhaps an x-ray. And without knowing what exactly was wrong, I'm already shy about $240.00.

All while I'm marginally-to-almost unemployed.

But you know, things could be worse. While we were waiting, three families got the worst news a pet person could get--and one of the dogs was a German shepherd, like our Linus. The shepherd was 16, had cancer, and had been hit by a car, for haven't sake--they wheeled her in on a gurney, and I couldn't look at her. I knew I would start crying and I likely wouldn't stop.

While I am not against public displays of sadness, it seemed inappropriate, especially as the owner of the dog was so matter of fact about the dog's need to be put down. She could have been ordering Chinese food with the emotion she put into this decision. Her kids were taking it hard, according to her, but she seemed so detached, I wondered: Does having kids leave you with no resources for anything or anybody else? Did she lose so many dear people/animals in her life, she's hardened to the experience? Am I the wacko for being much more sympathetic to the elderly woman who was crying because her dear dog had to be put down and she was heartbroken, for she felt as close to the dog as to her children? (Her adult children nodded when she said that--and they didn't seem to mind, bless their hearts.)

Whatever. It was a hell of a way to spend a holiday, and I am supposed to go to a Fourth of July party within the hour.

Gotta turn the mood around, people. (And no, I don't do substances.)

Wish me luck (and Shwea, too, if you don't mind).