Choppers
Yesterday, our little Blind Betty had to spend the day at the vet’s office dealing with the first of what I am sure will be an array of medical issues this sweet old dog will have to endure. One might argue that “investing” in an aged dog is unproductive, but nothing could be further from the truth. Pets are rarely economic choices, they are emotional choices. Man does keep and use animals (other than livestock for eventual eating) for valid economic purposes, whether as watchdogs or draft horses. But I will bet that in today’s world at least 99% of pets are kept for non-productive purposes and are actually a net economic drain rather than a supplement to livelihood. We seem to need pets to reconnect ourselves to nature in an age of increasing physical dislocation (the virtual world as we are coming to know it better and better with each passing COVID day). I can argue that I am available to Kim for both unconditional love and affection (as she is to me), so this is a need that transcends our need for human relationships and contact. Yes, old people in homes are often aided by visitation from loving pets, but we are not at that remote and lonely stage of life, so there must be more involved for us to undertake such effort on behalf of our furry friends.
To look at Blind Betty is to see a dog that has largely been neglected for much, if not all, of her life. She is a Blanche Dubois of a dog. She, like Blanche, is a vision in gossamer white, and is a symbol of purity and innocence. She is a moth-like creature that is delicate, refined, and sensitive, while skirting around the edges of our existence, seemingly without purpose and bumping into things ever so gently. She is the quintessential being that perhaps has always depended on the kindness of strangers. There is nothing aggressive about her because she has no means of inflicting her aggression, so she accepts her docile fate and takes things as they come to her.
What came to her yesterday was a day of oral surgery. The vet exam last week revealed that her most pressing problem (pretty amazing prioritization for a dog that is blinded by her cataracts) was not her eyes, but her teeth. The vet said she was in bad need of dental work and that many of her medical issues related directly to the bad condition of her teeth. I used to have a friend who was a dentist. Unfortunately, he passed away last year, but he was fond of saying that a set of teeth never walked into his office all by itself. What he meant by that was obviously that teeth are a part of of the whole and an integral part of the body. We now know that ridding our mouths of plaque helps us avoid arteriosclerosis. They say there is more causality than co-morbidity to that plaque build-up, so I have no choice but to believe them. Cecil had to get his teeth brushed every day by Kim due to his heart condition, but Blind Betty’s oral problems go way beyond plaque.
The vet said that she had teeth that were rotting and infected and that it was directly harming her health, so we had no choice but to act right away. She went in yesterday and spent the whole day in surgery and recovery. I do not have the details of the teeth pulled, cleaned or fixed, but I do know that they took the opportunity of her being under general anesthesia to do everything that needed doing plus giving her at least two shots that she required. It was a tough day for her. Kim went to pick her up and carried her into the house in her post-traumatic state. She normally looks ditzy due to her blindness, but now she looked dazed and ditzy. Her muzzle looked on the outside as though she were a punch-drunk prize-fighter. Whether from blood that got into her fur or general swelling and flush from all the related oral excavations, she was swollen and druggy. All she wanted in life was to lay her head on Kim’s chest and know that it was over and that someone would care for her in her infirmity. Her wish was granted.
Kim told me in advance to order dinner in because she needed to be available to comfort Betty. Betty started the night with no appetite for what I figured was good reason. Anything involving the mouth and chewing had to be something to avoid for a while. She was able to drink some water and eventually take enough food to supplement the half-rations that she had gotten for breakfast that morning. She did doze off once or twice, but mostly she stared into space wondering how her life, that had taken a turn for the better a few weeks ago had suddenly gotten so miserable. The good news about the mouth as an organ is that it tends to heal very quickly, so I suspect Blind Betty will be better by a quantum today and in fine fettle by tomorrow. We all know that anything physical involving the area of the head, tends to be more intense in terms of pain and feeling than any other part of the body. Toothaches and earaches are the worst. I have had three wisdom teeth extracted on one day and I can relate to how horrible Betty must be feeling.
Well, I hope Bling Betty has a good day today because tomorrow she goes to the doctor again, only this time it is to check out her eyes. I hope for her sake this is just an external exam that does not involve too much poking or prodding. We are hoping that we can make Blind Betty a little less blind, at least in one eye. It would be nice if she could wander around the house without bumping her newly fixed muzzle into every wall and piece of furniture. It would also be nice if she could go outside and smell the world around her without risking falling down a hillside or into a pile of landscaped rocks and cacti.
It cost a lot to fix Betty’s choppers and it will probably cost a lot to fix her eyes if fixing is even possible. Betty may be old and have only a limited useful life, but we are committed to making it as pleasant for her as we can. We know she will appreciate all of these pains and inconveniences in the long run (however long that may be). And we know that we will feel better making Betty’s life better, and that is the only thing that really matters in life when everything else is stripped away.