Yes, I totally said that in Aerosmith’s, “Back In The Saddle Again” tune. Back in the cone again….
Bazinga, the Wonder Dog, is indeed back in the cone again. The Cone of Shame.
And honestly? It’s a Christmas Miracle that she is.
Bazinga normally avoids the truck like the plague. We have to bribe her to get close enough so that Wolf and/or Diva can lift her into the back when we need to take her anywhere. Never goes near it.
We’re still not sure what happened. From Wolf’s perspective, he was pulling out, with Tazzie in the truck, and felt a bump under the floor boards.
From my perspective, a screaming, sobbing Tazzie ran in the house, shrieking, “Dad just ran over Bazinga!”
Frankly, all of our hearts stopped.
Wolf discovered her head about six inches from the back tire. All we’ve been able to figure out is she must have ducked under the side of the truck as he was pulling forward. He was horrified when he got out and saw her back half visible, but not her front. Bending down to look under the truck, sick to think of what he was going to find, probably took a good five years off of his life.
When he brought her in the house, I was already on the phone with the vet’s office. Taking a good look at her, I was fairly certain that her nose was cut up, but we’re not about to mess around with our Bazinga, so we were out of the house in about ten minutes after.
Our vet clinic, by the way, is fantastic. The vet admitted that when she heard that Bazinga was coming in, *she* was upset, because the whole dang office fell in love with her when she was in for her spaying. And, can I say, as an example of Bazinga’s temperment, she didn’t once growl, nothing when she was being examined? Just tolerated it. We are so freaking blessed by this dog.
Long story short, my assessment was accurate. She needed a butt load of stitches in her nose, and the top of it may or may not heal, there’s just no way to be sure. She may lose a part of it. Which will mean that she won’t win any beauty contests, but it won’t impact her health, or quality of life.
I don’t care if Bazinga looks a horror, as long as she’s healthy, and she’s with us.
It was a horrifying, terrifying thing to happen, but I keep coming back to how astoundingly LUCKY we were and are. That she’s ok, albeit with a few stitches in her nose, seems nothing short of an incredible blessing, a miracle to us. We could be mourning our Bazinga today. Instead, we’re a bit nauseated from yesterday still, and the vet bill was a bit sick making in itself, but she’s here. She’s pinning people against cupboards and walls with the Cone of Shame, knocking toddlers over, ornaments off the tree, and we couldn’t be happier.