Two weeks ago, I broke my ring finger while I was walking my dog, Casey. In her effort to protect me from a mail truck that was driving innocently down our street, she lunged at it and her leash somehow got wrapped around my fingers instead of my hand. According to my doctor, he sees this type of injury ALL of the time, and it could have been much worse! Call me crazy, but I was doubtful about just how many times he sees this type of injury; but I was thankful he told me that because it made me feel a teeny bit better about how dumb and out of control I felt when it happened☹️.
The good news is that I don’t need surgery. I just need to have my ring and pinky fingers taped together inside a bright blue hard plastic splint for three weeks. The bad news is that although the doctor gave me quite a few restrictions, walking the dog was not one of them😳.
By the end of day one with the splint I found myself thinking if I was having difficulty with things like washing my hands, washing and drying my hair, preparing meals, holding the steering wheel of my car, or opening jars and containers, how would I possibly be able to walk my 70-pound puppy one handed when I couldn’t do it with two hands??
After two days of feeling sorry for myself, and because no one else was home to walk her, I snuggled up to Casey on the couch so that I could give us both a pep talk. I told her it wasn’t going to be easy, but we had to get back out there, try to walk together calmy, and work on our training, so that neither of us would get hurt. I also reminded her that her cuteness would only get her so far with me😊!
So, after 10 minutes of trying one-handed to get her “No Pull Harness” on, we ventured out. The first 15 minutes were great! We met and played with another dog friend, we stopped to smell a few bushes, and she even responded to my “Sit” command when a loud truck drove by us. Then I heard it; the familiar, dreadfully loud, and scary sound that causes me to instantly tense up. Our very friendly mailman (who Casey adores when he is not driving) was approaching us in his little, old white truck at an excruciatingly slow pace; which is probably why Casey thinks she can overpower it! At this point I was beginning to think that I was the only one who took our pep talk to heart, because the hair on her back was in full ridge formation indicating that she seemed to think that once again we were in harm’s way and that she needed to lunge at his truck! As she started to pull, I grasped her leash as strongly as I could with my good hand, said a prayer, and then firmly (in a loudish tone) said “Casey No”! She looked at me and then at him as if she were trying to figure out what to do next. For a split second, she decided to bark, and pull on her leash, but then she sat down next to me and waited to be rewarded for her “good” choice.
In the end, she got a treat, my good hand remained uninjured, and our mailman got another good laugh at us just like he does each day that Casey tries to lunge at his truck😊.
Still Standing (Barely),
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