Feeling: determined
Listening to: --
Reading/Watching: Tropic Thunder, with actor commentary

About a month ago, I let the dogs inside for bedtime and 'Dante limped in the door and immediately huddled against me, stiff and shaking.

I tried petting him, soothing him, and he burrowed against my chest, but continued to shake, his heart racing, leaking tiny whimpers like squeaky machinery. I thought he was frightened, and called Will over, alarmed, to see what was in the back yard.

Then we urged the dogs to get in their kennels, and 'Dante moved so slowly, so stiffly, that it was obvious he was shaking from pain, not fear. I tried to help him climb on the bed, so he could sleep more comfortably, and when I touched his hindquarters he practically screamed.

By that point I was crying, and Will offered to call in to work and take him to the vet in the morning. I agreed, but said I wanted to go, too.

In the morning he was better, but still stiff. The vet checked him over, even kept him in the office for x-rays, and I went to half a day at work, before coming back to get the diagnosis.

And that's when they said he needed surgery. The x-rays were easy enough for me to read, and his kneecap was clearly in the wrong place. He was apparently born that way, and sometimes would do things to aggravate it. Hearing that explained so much about the weird way he sits down (bad leg splayed out to the side, not folded under him), his funky twisty gait, everything. It was already causing arthritis, and he's barely two years old. If it went untreated he would eventually damage his other joints compensating for it, until he was unable to walk. His ACL is also pulled unusually tight to connect to the misplaced patella, so there's a danger of it snapping if he gets overexcited and jumps wrong. The vet was so adamant about the surgery that she volunteered about a dozen different ways they could pull strings to try to make it more affordable. The low-ball estimate is $1200.

I came home, woke Will up (he currently works two full-time jobs, and sleeps about six hours in between them), and told him about it. While talking about it, I bawled like a baby, because I didn't have the money, and I would just have to leave my Booger-bear in pain for the rest of his life. Vets don't do payment plans; it's all up front.

That's when he got very, very still, and said, "Okay, this is what we're going to do. For the next few months, we're grounded, and we will be until we've saved up enough money. No more dinners out, no road trips, no nights out drinking or movies or anything."

It's been a month, and we're both feeling the pinch, sitting at home on a Friday eating pizza and watching Netflix (especially since he works from home; his cabin fever is like a living creature), but here's my main point: yes, I am a ridiculous sap for saving up all this money to buy knee surgery for my dog. But at least my guy recognizes why that's so important to me, and is willing to make the sacrifice with me, instead of telling me I'm an idiot.

So we're sitting at home. And this weekend his mom is coming into town to visit, so that'll be fun. The main plan is to get groceries for cooking and maybe cash in those 2-for-1 movie passes we've been hoarding. Might go wild and dine out (once, with a coupon). It's maddening sometimes.

But the dog limps every. single. day. I can't let him suffer, and I can't just put him down, so this is what we're doing. Getting a second opinion from another vet next week, just to be sure, but this is the only option I can live with.

Forgive me if my blog-exploits seem much tamer than usual. It's going to be that way for a while.

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