Here is a photo of two of our dogs taken last summer. The brown one, Daisy, we have had for eight years. Putter is the black and white dog, which we have had ten years. On Tuesday of this week, something went terribly wrong with Daisy and without warning she viciously attacked the black and white dog.
Putter was in surgery for almost three hours. Dozens and dozens of stitches and staples were used to put her back together again. According to the surgeon there was no doubt that Daisy intended to kill Putter. Had our house cleaner not been there, that most likely would have happened.
We finally were able to bring Putter home today. She still has four drains inserted into some of the deeper wounds which most likely won't come out until next Tuesday. Her stitches and staples will be in for about a week after that. For now it will be our job to make sure she gets all of her four kinds of medications scheduled around the clock, and to be sure to keep all her drainage tubes clean and clear. Who would have thought that two "friends" for all these years would have had this horrific outcome? I shudder when I think how much worse this could have been! Not only do we have two younger, smaller dogs, but we have three young granddaughters that live with us. So, Putter is indeed our hero: she took one for the team.
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