It was a really odd feeling the next few days with only Doc and myself in the apartment. It had been the 3 of us for last three and a half years and while it stressed me out, I would have to say Doc seemed to appreciate not having his surrogate little brother around for a little while.
I would go visit Bender in the hospital right after work and each day I would ask when I would get to take him home. I didn't want to rush him by any means, but not only were the hospital bills climbing every day he was in there, I wanted to have my little guy home so he could relax and so I could begin adjusting to what would be my new life caring for an invalid of a sort.
On the third day, I asked the doctor if there was any specific reason he should stay in the hospital - if there were some treatment they were giving him that I couldn't at home, or if there was any kind of potential emergency situation they were keeping an eye on. The doctor said that the only thing they were really doing that I might not be able to do was express his bladder since he wasn't peeing on his own, but that they could teach me how to do it if I was comfortable.
Manually relieving a dog was not something I could say I ever expected to be on my resume, but hey, each day is an opportunity to learn something new right?
The nurse brought Bender in along with a puppy pad and set both down on the examination table and the doctor showed me where to grab Bender to feel for the bladder (pro tip: it's right above his wiener just like you'd expect) Once I was pretty sure I was in the right place, I started squeezing. For several seconds, nothing. Then he started spraying like a Super Soaker all over the pad all the while giving me a look as if to say, 'I don't know why you're doing what you're doing, but thanks man, I needed that.'
Having proven my aptitude at pee-squeezing a little dog, the doctor let me know I could take Bender home the next day as long as nothing peculiar happened overnight.
I had ordered 2 dog crates for the little guy which were both waiting for me when I got home and I set the one he would be living in for the next 6 weeks or so in my bedroom. Doc decided that it looked a suitable residence for him and spent most of the night in there warming it up for his little buddy before we went to sleep.
I woke up the following morning to the doctor's office calling me. They said that all was well and whenever I wanted to pick the little guy up, he was ready. I anxiously stumbled my way through work counting the minutes until I could go grab my little buddy and take remove him from that frightening place.
I left work a little early and settled the rest of the hospital bill and carried Bender like a bomb made of egg shells back to my car along with 4 different kinds of medication. He was pretty spaced out from the drugs and his little legs were still pretty much completely limp, but his head perked up when I laid him down in the passenger seat. He let out a frustrated grunt when he couldn't stand up to see out the window but eventually conceded to the will of the meds and passed out in a little ball of black fur and sutures.
Once home, I placed him in his cage, which he did not seem to excited about, but again, those meds were pretty powerful and after a brief session of whimpering at his buddy Doc on the other side of the bars, he drifted off again. But, he was home where he belonged and I began to feel like everything might work out for the little man after all.
https://steemit.com/blog/@vitamint/little-bender-dog-s-road-to-recovery-part-2