Showing posts with label knee surgery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label knee surgery. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Puppy-Treads

I was recently asked to sample and review a product called Puppy-Treads. Which were not, I was surprised to learn, puppy tennis shoes (an idea I could totally get behind) but safety strips designed to keep pets (and people) from slipping on hardwood floors, stairs, and tile.

This seemed oddly appropriate for my household, almost as if the company had heard about the “Sassy Thinks She’s Superdog and Subsequently Has Emergency Knee Surgery” situation.

How sad does this dog look?
I’m not saying that the fact that I had recently pulled up the living room carpeting and polished the wooden tile floor caused Sassy's accident but I’m also not going to say it wasn’t a factor.

I’m also not going to say that Sassy has learned her lesson and now walks carefully and gingerly across the floor.  I’m not going to say that because it would be an enormous lie.

It is especially disturbing to see how she chases Bubba down the carpeted stairs at top speed, leaps from the 2nd or 3rd stair onto the floor, and slides across the room like she’s on ice skates.

It is interesting to note that Opie takes these leaps and slides with equanimity. “The vet said we might eventually have to have surgery on the other knee,” he says. "If it happens, it happens."

I, on the other hand, am not nearly so calm and have even gone so far as to build a barrier at the bottom of the stairs in a futile attempt to curb this behavior.

Not at all completely tacky, is it? I mean nothing says classy like crates in the living room.
In any case, this is where the Puppy-Treads come in.  They're made by the HandiRamp company (who manufacture wheelchair accessible ramps and other safety products) and are specifically designed to give pets traction on slippery surfaces like hardwood or linoleum.  So, when the company offered me a free set and asked me to review them, I jumped at the chance.

I mean, they had to be better than the tacky crate situation, right?

The review process has not been without the typical Kimbo drama, however.

As soon as they arrived, I opened the box and read the instructions.

That was the easy part.

Then I started obsessing about the fact that they were adhesive.  “What if I decide I hate them, pull them up and they leave some disgusting residue?”  I fretted.  “What if I turn our living room into some horrible, doggy-sized sticky trap and I come home one day to find both dogs and the cat all stuck to the floor, writhing in agony?”

Opie calls these kind of ideas overreacting (though rarely out loud) and suggested a test run.

Clearly, I have married a genius.

So I cut off a corner:


Stuck it on the floor:


Waited awhile, then pulled it up, and voila! No sticky residue.

Score one for the Puppy-Treads!

I was ready for the true test.

I peeled a full tread off the paper backing (while Opie took pictures and I yelled things like “Just get my hands!” and “Make sure I don't look enormous in this photo!”).



Then stuck them to the floor at the bottom of the stairs.


At first it was difficult to gauge how well they worked because Bubba was terrified of them.  This is no reflection on the treads themselves; the list of things that Bubba is terrified of includes but is not limited to: the microwave when it beeps, the refrigerator door alarm, Nerf guns, champagne bottles, my father, grates in the street, the hose, the vacuum, the sandwich grill, the sound of anything cooking, the neighbor kids, and balloons.

Bubba is a very skittish dog.

It does mean, however, that when I first put the treads down, Bubba decided they were the scariest things EVER and that they were probably made of acid and that he should fling himself over them at every opportunity instead of taking the chance that they might burn his paws off.

Which meant that Sassy leapt over them too in hysterical imitation.

Definitely NOT the response I was hoping for.

Eventually, though, Bubba deigned to walk on them so Sassy could also walk on them and in no time, both dogs acted like the treads had been there for years. And they definitely do provide some traction. The dogs still leap from the second or third stair like over-sized grasshoppers but they don't slide across the floor, scrabbling wildly with their toenails. 

They would probably work even better if I added a few more treads, extending them farther out into the room and covering more of the floor. But that leads me to my only complaint. The ad says they are lightweight, easy to install and attractive.  I agree with lightweight and easy to install. Attractive, though, is a bit of a stretch. I got the clear ones but they are still pretty visible on the floor—though, to be fair, not nearly as obtrusive as a stack of mis-matched crates.

In any case, I don’t know if I would want them up and down an entire fancy staircase but I’m planning to leave them on the floor in front of the stairs and I'll probably put another one down in front of the doorway to the washroom (where the cat tends to do his own wild leaping) because they do provide extra traction.

And I’ll do anything to avoid 8 more weeks of puppy prison and knee surgery recovery!

Anyway, if you’re reading this and you have similar slippage issues, these could help you out. You can read more about them and see the color and size selections here and can even get 10% off if you use the discount code BLOG2014. 



Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Canine Calculations

I would like to report that jumping off the couch, dislocating her knee, having emergency surgery and subsequently being confined for 8 weeks (causing weeks of drama for everyone involved!) has taught Sassypants that the back of the couch is a dangerous place no dogs should go.





I would like to report that but it would be an enormous lie.

I think I'll spend the rest of my day calculating:

A. How long it will be before she attempts another Super-dog leap off the couch.

B. How much it's going to cost us to have surgery on the other knee.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Pupdate

So, as some of you know, Princess Snowflake Sassypants dislocated her kneecap and needed reconstructive surgery as well as not one but two pins to put it back in place.



It’s been a looooonnnnng week.

In any case, here's the whole story:

Wednesday morning I was in the kitchen trying to extricate myself from the obscene number of vegetables our garden has produced this summer by making a huge pot of tomato sauce. So there I was, literally up to my elbows in tomatoes, when I heard Princeton P. Kitty tear across the living room at top speed.

Followed closely by the sound of Sassy and Bubba tearing across the living room at top speed.

Followed closely by the sound of loud threats of violence and an irate, sauce-covered woman storming into the living room at a slightly slower pace.

Which is when I found Sassy lying on the floor, whimpering in pain.

As near as we can figure, she jumped off the back of the couch in the manner of Super Dog in some bizarre attempt to catch the cat.

But she’s not cut out for the doggy Olympics because she clearly didn’t stick the landing,

Anyway, in case you have never met me, I should mention that these are not situations I take with stoicism and calm. I prefer to call Opie at work, scream hysterically, and then rush to the vet’s in a panic—caring not at all that the vet’s office wasn’t officially open yet.

The rest of the morning went something like this:

7:45 Arrive at vet's office, hoping that vet has arrived early and will be able to see whimpering dog immediately.

7:50 Learn that vet has arrived early but is performing surgery and will not leave other dog on the operating table.  Pretend to be understanding but secretly consider bursting into surgery and shoving own dog into vet’s face while screaming things like “Help us, for the love of heaven, help us!”

7:51 Agree with vet tech that heading to emergency vet is best option. Jump back in car and start hysterical journey across town.

7:55 scream profanity at idiot woman on cellphone who careened across 2 lanes of traffic, nearly smashing into own car.

7:56 become idiot woman on cellphone as attempt to call family and friends to shriek about dog and other idiot driver.

7:57 realize that in dramatic exit from home, left tomato sauce boiling on the stove. Have horrified vision of losing other two pets, not to mention entire house, in a sauce explosion.

7:58 Try to say every curse word have ever heard, pull up in front of house, slam car into park and begin running across dew-soaked lawn at top speed. Nearly dislocate own knee in process as flip-flops, water, and running are a poor combination. Kick off shoes, finish run in bare feet. Turn off sauce, fly back to car, jump back out to grab shoes, and drive to emergency clinic like a maniac.

8:10 Get to emergency vet…which is only a problem because, as I’ve said before, it sometimes takes new people awhile to really appreciate the mysterious ball of emotions that is Kimberly. The emergency vet was DEFINITELY one of those people. Our conversation went a little like this:

                                Vet: Unfortunately, her knee is completely dislocated. If you feel right here—

                                Me: I don’t want to feel it.

                                Vet: But you’ll be able to feel how far out of position—

                                Me: I believe you; I don’t need to feel it.

                                Vet: I just want you to see that it’s completely—

                                Me: Seriously, I’m about to vomit.

And, fortunately for everyone involved, he believed me and stopped trying to convince me that I should immerse myself in some sort of sick doggy torture and began to explain that the knee would need surgical repair. I agreed, he said I should make an appointment to get that done in the next few days, and then he made the fatal mistake of acting as if that was all.

Me: So, she’ll get surgery in a couple of days but what about TODAY? What are we going to do TODAY?

                                Vet: We can’t fix it today; it’s so far out of position—

Me: So, we’re just going to do NOTHING? We’re going to let this poor little dog sit around in EXCRUCIATING PAIN for the next two days? IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK WE’RE GOING TO DO?

I don’t know if that’s originally what he thought, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t think so once I started yelling and waving my arms in the air.

It’s probably a bit of a miracle that he didn’t try to sedate both of us.

And I have to say, Opie was quite the trooper throughout all this because when I pretended to be a reasonable person and asked “Do we need to talk about how much we’re willing to pay to get this fixed? Do we have a number we won’t go above?” He just rolled his eyes and said, “I don’t know do WE?” and then added “You know you’re going to do it no matter what, so why even debate it?”

The man is wise beyond his years.

So, this knee has been completely reconstructed, the other knee might need surgery in the future, and Sassy has been sentenced to 6-8 weeks of puppy prison.



6-8 weeks of no running, playing, jumping or climbing the stairs....I feel doggy drama, drama, drama coming on.