Thursday morning, 3:30 am, the one and only Skye jumps in bed with me, licking her lips and smacking her mouth. I was ripped from my happy sleep by a single thought- my dog is going to puke on me. Instead, Skye jumped off the bed and started pawing at her face. She hit her muzzle with her paw and started crying and rubbing her face on the floor.
Skye isn't a crybaby- she really doesn't show pain unless it's intense. Thus began a long struggle between the half conscious human and the squirmy pit bull so I could look at her mouth and see what's up.
|Now she opens her mouth.|
After a groggy confirmation that something was wrong with one of her teeth, we both collapsed and snoozed for a few more hours. Later that day we went to the vet, a place Skye has become increasingly wary of due to her frequent visits. Our vet made a lot of those noises you don't like to hear- she even said 'oh my.'
It turns out that I either kicked Skye in the mouth (negative, Charlie) or she ran into a wall. Hard. Was I surprised? Not so much. My little blue tornado used her face as a battering ram and knocked a tooth through the side of her gum. Unless it falls out on her own (cue the new bully stick) she has to have surgery at the end of the month. Almost exactly 1 year after her last dental surgery.
Then we came home and she was stung by a bee.
|I think I've earned the cookie.|
I'm looking into putting her in a bubble, but until then we're going to keep on keeping on. I learned a long time ago that Skye is genetically doomed and I will never save up money for anything other than vet bills. After this surgery, she will be down 5 teeth- I'm aiming for her to be toothless by the age of 7.
The only up side? My vet told me that the unusual wear on her back molars suggests that she spent a lot of time in a crate chewing on the bars when she was younger. Since Skye was a stray, I have no idea when kind of life she had before being found on the street. However, I have always thought that she was an impulse buy puppy that got too crazy and was kept in a crate all the time until it became too much. It's nice to have some evidence to back that up, even if it means those teeth may become infected some day as well.
What can I say? I love my money pit.
|Credit: Meghan Taylor Photography|