Has anyone noticed that I have too many dogs?  Besides Electric Horseman and my financial advisor, I mean?  Anyone?  Hello?  Three dogs would be a nice number – one for Butterfly and two for us.  Now, don’t ask me to choose which 3 would make the cut.  That would be a Sophie’s Choice dilemma of epic proportions.  But I do know that 7 dogs can get out of hand, especially when you have more than one that wants to be the alpha dog.

Several months ago, when things were down to a dull roar with just 5 dogs, Fifinella and her husband split the sheets, at which point their two canines came to live with us.  I knew old Romeo would not be a problem, since he grew up here and is so old and mellow that you hardly even know he’s around.  In fact, half the time we can’t even find him.  Calling him does no good, because unless you’re right next to him (and he’s awake) he can’t hear you. 

It was their other canine unit that gave me cause for concern.  Mayday is half Jack Russell and half Australian shepherd.  She’s a cute, sweet dog to be sure, but not a dog that is meant to be part of a pack.  I told the kids at the time I didn’t think this was going to work, but there was nowhere else for Mayday to go, so it was here she came.

There had been a few minor tussles between her and some of the other dogs, but nothing of any consequence.  Mayday has a habit of identifying a person who, for the moment, is her person, and she does not like other dogs near her person.  Most frequently I am her person, unless Fifinella is home for a visit.  She will growl at any dog that approaches, and will even bite them about the head and neck!  Food is another trigger.  All the dogs gather in the kitchen when it’s time for medicine to be handed out (in cubes of cheese).  Mayday wants no other dog around for that and will try to drive them away, usually while doing her best Tasmanian devil imitation.  So I’ve taken to locking her in a bathroom when it’s medicine/food time.  And clamping her mouth shut if she’s near when I pet another dog.  Perhaps I should muzzle her?

Nothing of any real consequence, though, had happened – which is probably due to the good natures of the rest of my dogs.  Then, however, came December 2nd, a Wednesday on which I was cleaning house.  Butterfly was off on her usual Wednesday jaunts – piano lesson and thrift store shopping.  I had been vacuuming for quite a while.  When I stopped, I heard the dogs outside barking.  I thought to myself that the Three Idiots (Barney, Lucky and Mayday) must be, once again, barking at the horses so I went out the front door to break up their inane fun.

As I stepped out the door, I heard a noise amidst the barking that sounded strangely reminiscent of the sounds a fighting raccoon makes.  “Oh, no,” I thought to myself, “they’ve got a wild animal down!”  I quickly started planning for handling a wild critter – where is my catch pole?  Where are my welding gloves?  Where is the nearest animal crate?  Is my neighbor home in case I need help?  Which vehicle do I use in case the wild animal and any injured dogs all need transportation?

As I ran towards the ruckus, I would have laughed if it hadn’t been so freaking serious.  There was no wild animal.  Only dogs – all dogs – all my dogs.  Mayday and Hellan were going at it, with all the rest of the dogs standing around them in a circle, barking furiously.  It looked just like a bunch of guys watching a fight.  It was Mayday making the horrible noise.  Hellan had her on her back, by the throat, shaking her violently.  Hellan was going for the kill.

“Hellan!  Quit!  Leave her!”  I yelled.  “Mayday!  Stop!”

Hellan immediately backed off and ran to hide under our truck.  I called to Mayday but she took off for the back of the house.  I kept calling to her so I could check out her wounds, but she wouldn’t come to me.  So I ran into the house just as she came in the doggy door to my office, where she came to me, trembling.

I grabbed a towel and settled her down on a dog bed so I could examine her.  Her neck was full of holes and some serious tears, but there didn’t seem to be any torrential bleeding.  I locked the doggy door to keep her isolated in the office (which has a brick floor so if she bled on it I could deal with it later).

I called my vet to let them know I was headed their way with an emergency and padded the back of my car with towels.  I carried Mayday to the car – by then she was so weak that she didn’t want to walk and was quite willing to just give up and be a noodle.  Hellan was still under the truck, not moving a muscle.  Once I had Mayday settled in the car, I dragged Hellan out to check her over and make sure she did not need medical attention.  There was only one little nick over her eye.  All the blood on her belonged to Mayday.  She wouldn’t even look me in the eye.

“I know she’s a pain, Hellan, but seriously, did you have to try to kill her?”  I sighed.

The vet called as soon as he had evaluated Mayday.  She needed immediate surgery.  She had two big tears on the top of her neck and most seriously, a hole in her trachea that went half way around.  She was leaking air in both directions – inhaling and exhaling.  Air was getting under her skin (subcutaneous emphysema) and she was blowing up like a balloon. There was a lot of work to be done.

Several hours later I got a call saying that Mayday was out of surgery and in fair condition.  It was determined that she could stay the night at our vet’s, as opposed to having to go to a 24-hour emergency clinic (thank you, says my bank account). 

The next day I worked until noon at the Christmas Basket Program and then stopped by to visit Mayday. 

“Do you want me to go to the back to see her?”  I asked when I arrived.

“No, let’s see if she’s willing to walk up here to see you,” they decided, and I waited for Mayday in one of the examining rooms.

Mayday walks gingerly down the hall.

Here comes Balloon Dog!  She was very swollen with all the air that had made its way under her skin (hence the yellow compression bandage around her middle).

“You can take her outside if you like, to see if she wants to go potty.”

Swollen from stem to stern.

Mayday was quite willing to go out, but showed no interest in relieving herself, or in spending much time outside.  She was tired.  We went back to our assigned room for some quality time.

Not a pretty picture.

She wanted her tummy scratched, despite all her aches and pains.

Lots of drains to remove the fluid.

Just looking at those bruises and fluid pockets made me cringe.  She had to be one sore pup.

I left Mayday at the vet’s for the rest of the day so they could observe and medicate her.  They decided I could bring her home that night.  Oh, joy.  I knew I was going to have my work cut out for me.  Not only was I going to have tend to her drains and wounds, I was going to have to keep her and Hellan apart. Have I mentioned I have too many dogs?

But I went back late that afternoon and picked up the bedraggled little Mayday.  She was most delighted to see me again, and to leave the hospital behind.  I had set the house up for her arrival, putting towels on various beds so that her “drainage” wouldn’t cause any damage. 

Mayday's first night home.

She was exhausted by the time we got home. 

Sawing logs.

She was also very happy to be home.  She slept like a rock.

It’s been a long 2 ½ weeks since then, with lots of work involved, but Mayday has recovered very nicely.  She was a good patient, letting me work on her wounds with nary a whimper.  I can’t say the same for how she behaves with the vet, or his techs.  She hates them.  But me, she’ll let me do anything to her.  The vet does say she behaves much better when I’m not around, so it must be a protective thing – her protecting me against the big, bad vet.

Her neck has healed nicely.

She can now wear her collar again, but only for identification purposes.  We still don’t attach a leash to it.  The vet says it takes a long time for a trachea to heal, so he doesn’t want any pressure put on it.  She is also still on antibiotics.

Leashing the injured dog.

Just in case you ever need to leash a dog with an injured neck, this is how you do it.  Slip the leash over the neck and put one front leg through it.  Then most of the pressure will be on the body and not the neck.  We are still using this technique on Mayday. 

I like it up here!

Now that she’s no longer draining bodily fluids, she’s back to worming her way onto the couch.

Awww, can't I stay here?

She likes to roll over for a tummy scratch, especially if you order her to get off the couch.

You know you love me.

It’s hard to say no to this face.

In another few weeks, when we’re sure she’s completely healed and ready to go, I’ll be looking for the perfect new home for Mayday.  She needs to be an only dog, but she’ll make someone a wonderful dog. 

Mayday's very favorite pastime