Red brindle greyhound without right front leg, on leash walking on dirt road

Whistler off on another walk – Day 8 post-op

And he’s off! Whistler wanted, and got, a second walk on his first day without bandages.

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Yes, that’s a “light days panty liner” loosely taped to the bottom of the incision area, where his surgeon left a little flap slightly un-sutured to allow for drainage. Mark made a stop at the “feminine hygiene” aisle in Supermercado Disco the other day, after reading on greyhound health blogs that menstrual pads work better well on hounds’ incisions. Though Whistler got a little growl-y when Mark taped it on, it’s stopped him from licking that area.

Whissie didn’t want to come back from this walk. We not only went half way up the block, to the open lot where he does some business – he went all the way to the corner, where he could look the 2½ blocks towards the shore. Then went hopni-skipni the almost all the way down that block, especially when he saw one of the other neighborhood dogs heading that way – even though it was Sasha the “sweater dog” (not in this heat!) who used to terrorize him. We didn’t let him go cross the big street, and he put up his usually stubborn “I’m not moving” planting himself as if rooted like a tree, in the street. Luckily we convinced him to get out of the way, before two rental ATVs filled with four idiotic summer tourists came speeding up this little residential street! (Darn Porteños!)

That’s enough adventure for a hot summer Saturday with a happy-to-be-hopping hound. He’s napping post-Tramadol now, and will probably have an appropriately late Rio de la Plata dinner, and then it’s backyard-only for the final business of  the evening.

Tomorrow, more walks. Hopefully with fewer noisy locals-ignoring tourists. This is what we get for always living in resort towns, whether in South American beach towns or Colorado USA ski towns. Economy depends on them, but get out of the way in high season! Especially if hopping around sans-a-leg.

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Whistler the Hound

Whistler is the family pet of Mark Mercer and Lisa Marie Mercer. At only 7 years old, he is fighting the terrible and deadly disease, osteosarcoma. That's a fast-growing and painful bone cancer - in his once-strong right front shoulder. We aren't giving up on our greyt doggie, because he isn't giving up on us. Though he started limping badly again, with increased pain medication in early January 2015, he came back to his old normal personality, and began hopping around fine. But the leg will kill him if it doesn't come off, and otherwise he would only have days to at most weeks left. On January 16 2015 he is scheduled for amputation surgery. A difficult race is ahead, with rehab and chemotherapy, with emotional and financial stress. But he's worth it. (Because dogs don't type as well as cats do, posts from "Whistler the Hound" are interpreted by his people, Mark Mercer and Lisa Mercer.)