Yesterday afternoon, my neighbor called me to tell me that he thought he had hit the real Cindanna Jones (my dog) with his car. While he was on the phone, I heard the dogs at the front door. I opened it and they both came in wagging their tails. I told him that she looked fine.
At 5:10 PM, I noticed that Cindianna was extremely lethargic. I went to move her to her bed and got my hand covered in blood. The skin on the soft side of her belly was ripped wide open, and not being a straight cut, a large flap of skin was hanging loose from her body. I could see everything inside of her.
I was sickened. I could not get a hold of our veterinarian. I tried to make her comfortable. She would eat or drink nothing. I made her a bed on the kitchen floor... just in case she had to go or had more bleeding. Yea... gross in the kitchen but there is no carpet there and it would be easier to clean up. I managed to contact a vet in a nearby town and she had me check several things. She asked me to bring her in first thing this morning.
So there she is... having surgery and I'm going crazy. I think she is going to be okay. But I don't know what I'd do if she died. I really don't. She is my baby... and the only child I have who accepts me wholly for who I am. Oh... deep breath...
Cindi