Today Doc got his tail caught in a door. Dan was taking him for a walk and heard him yelp but didn’t notice anything wrong and assumed the door had just banged on him a little. He finished the walk and left Doc at home as he headed out to meet a friend for breakfast. Cassie was already out having breakfast and preparing to go to her favorite exercise class.

Then Cassie got a text. It was our cleaning person, Emily, expressing concern about Doc. She said there was blood everywhere. The house looked like a crime scene. Doc’s tail looked cut but Doc wouldn’t let her near him. Cassie rushed home calling Dan as she drove. We were both really worried.

The house was as reported. Blood on the carpets. Blood on the sofa. Blood all over Doc. Emily told Cassie she had been so worried when she walked in that she looked all over to see if we were ok. We were — Doc wasn’t. He was crying and still bleeding. Cassie called Dan on her way to the vet and he literally came unglued. She couldn’t understand a word he was saying as she sought to learn what had happened. He was sobbing, the dog was whimpering, Cassie was driving fast. It was a little chaotic to say the least.

After the rapid trip to the vet Doc now has a long pink bandage on his tail and is drugged out of his mind. There is some concern about whether he will fully heal and if not he will have to have the tip of his tail removed. Poor guy. 

Now unexpected things like this happen all of the time (though thank goodness this particular one hasn’t happened before). Historically when things arose we would just deal (just as Cassie did today) and then move quickly on. We have long prided ourselves on being pretty good in challenging situations and even better in a genuine crisis. Now though, following Cassie’s diagnosis, things like this knock us on our heels. We cry more easily. We worry more. We obsess in ways we didn’t before. We overreact. We catastrophize. Today it was about Doc. Last week it was a challenging work call for Dan. The week before a hard series of events for Cassie. What we are noticing is that we simply aren’t as resilient as we used to be. We are raw. Most of our energy goes to getting through the day and trying to stay as positive as we can. So when something unexpected and hard arises that extra gear we used to rely on isn’t as easy to access or maintain. Recognizing this lack of resilience helps. Naming it is even more important. And the best antidote we have found is to slow down and be gentle — on ourselves and each other (and on Doc).

2 Comments

  • Aw… Everyone might need a drink, including doc.

  • Colleen says:

    I can relate to doggie woes! About this time last year, (unbeknownst to us) our dog Decker badly broke a nail. He didn’t say a word :), and I found him on our bed in a pool of blood. We rushed him to the emergency vet, and were scared out of our minds, as we didn’t know what was happening. Thankfully, the nail was easily repaired and bandaged.

    Good for you for being kind to yourselves!