It's been awhile, but yeah, this poor, sweet old dude is still here with us.
In more NEUTER UR GOTDAM DAWGS news, Jake's neuter surgery did not go particularly well or easy for him. After a couple cancelled appointments due to snow and other disasters, I finally dropped him off last week, then came home and happily wrote up a sunny adoption listing for him and went through our photos in search of the best/cutest/biggest-softie-eyed ones. This was the last thing! The last hurdle! A simple snip-snip and then he could move out of medical-case fosterdog limbo and into the forever-home adoption pool!
I drove back to the vet that afternoon and he was rushed back into surgery about five minutes after I got there, because there was still a "bleeder" hanging around...down there...somewhere.
The next day he came home, but without the Cone of Shame, and so he promptly licked his way to a couple busted stitches and an infection and ONCE AGAIN, dog dickblood (or...ballblood? general-genital-area-blood?) became a thing that happened. Happens. Is still happening.
This morning I got the chance to impart to Ike a super-important life lesson that I'm sure will serve him well in the future: It's not nice to yell at dogs for dripping dickblood on the floor, honey; he can't help it.
He'll be okay. It's just going to be a much longer, more stressful healing process than if, say, HE GOT NEUTERED AT A YOUNGER AND MORE RESPONSIBLE AGE, RIGHTEOUS HELL, PEOPLE.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go ice a dog's empty nutsack.