Dexter

Dexter is an extremely cute Yorkshire terrier and poodle mix, a “Yorkiepoo”. The first time we met was at a Christmas party at a friend’s house and he must have been about a year and half at the time. He was not fully grown, his fur was a nice caramel colour with darker highlights around the eyes, the ears and the lower parts of the hind legs, and oh, so soft. He was very friendly with people and other pets and had magnificent big brown eyes just begging for affection. I was immediately under his spell. And that is saying a lot since I have always been an indomitable cat person. If Christopher had not come into my life, I would definitely have become one of those old cat ladies with at least a dozen cats! I love all cats and I admire their independence, self-confidence and their laisser-faire attitude.

Anyways, back to Dexter. After the holiday dinner, we were all stuffed and just sipping the rest of our wine. Since he figured that there would not be any more opportunities for food to fall from the table, he sneaked away unnoticed...When he came back, he was holding something strange in his mouth.

- Oh my god, he’s done it again! said Janet with panic in her voice. She picks up a pair of mangled eyeglasses...MY eyeglasses!!!

- I’m so, so sorry. I completely forgot to warn you guys that Dexter has a particular affinity for eyeglasses. He will even nose his way into a purse to find some and then proceeds to gnaw on them...

- Oh, no worries, I say in a reassuring tone. I can still use them around my house and I was going to get new ones anyways...That was a little white lie.

Fast forward about seven months. We find out that Janet and her husband Peter are going away for a one-week vacation and they are looking for someone to take care of Dexter while they are gone. We already have a cat but Dexter gets along with other pets and our cat Ben usually only objects to orange-coloured cats. Plus, Dexter is older now and he’s probably not as “bitey”. It’s only for a long weekend, three nights and four days, how bad could it be? Plus, it will be our turn to be on vacation soon afterwards. I volunteered Chris and I for the dog-sitting assignment.

On the agreed date and time, Janet and Peter show up with Dexter and all his belongings. We get the instructions and wish them a safe and well-deserved vacation. We put Dexter back in his cage and allow our cat to evaluate him from a safe vantage point. Ben starts to circle the metal cage. He looks at the newcomer from all angles, sniffs at regular intervals and after a few minutes, just walks away.

- I guess that’s all right, cat doesn’t seem to care too much either way, Chris comments.

- Ok, let’s open the cage and see what happens! I propose.

We let Dexter out and he begins a slow and deliberate walk about. He inspects each and every room, piece of furniture, rug and plant that he comes across. Since the first tour did not seem to be satisfactory, he goes on to perform a few more laps and eventually lies down on a rug, directly below the cat’s perch.

That afternoon, I temporarily lost track of time when my eyes were resting behind their eyelids. I’d better check on the furry kids. I quickly locate Ben having a snack in the kitchen. Dexter is nowhere in sight and I try calling his name several times without any success. I look through all the rooms in the house and cannot find him. I finally go towards the front door hoping that Christopher didn’t leave it open by accident. Nope, the door is closed. When I turn around, I spot. Something falls out of his mouth, then he goes to the nearest corner and looks down. He knows he’s been caught “in flagrante delicto”, that he is guilty of a reprehensible act. Again. He managed to get into my purse once more, find my very favourite pair of sunglasses and chew them on all sides. That’s the second pair rendered unusable at the mouth of this canine! Unbelievable! And this is only day one of four. I’d better watch him like a hawk and put my other new glasses in a more secure location.

The next day is pretty quiet. Ben and Dexter are getting along given that Ben is avoiding the dog as much as possible. The dog chases the cat intermittently but so far, the feline always manages to get to higher grounds or places where the canine cannot get into. I can tell though that my poor Ben is looking forward to regaining complete control of his domain.

In the evening, I’m sitting comfortably in a recliner with my legs up and Ben is sleeping on my lap while I’m watching one of my favourite shows. The next thing I know, Dexter comes tearing down in our direction barking like mad. Ben was so startled and probably so afraid for his life that he jumped at least a foot in the air. When he came back down, he needed some traction to outrun Dexter and get to a safe place. In his haste, he dug the nails of his hind paws in my hands and thighs and started his ascent towards a safer perch. The problem is that he needed to use parts of my anatomy as crags to get to his destination. The last foothold he used, and the most spectacular at the time, was my face. I did not feel too much pain when it happened but it soon began to bleed profusely. As the blood was spreading on the front of my shirt, I put my hand up to my face. I could feel a large gash going from my chin to the edge of my lower lip!

- Christopher, come here please!!! I say with urgency and fear in my voice.

- Oh, good lord! What the heck has happened? Look at your face!

We rush into the bathroom to get some first aid supplies and better lighting. It is not a pretty sight. The reflection in the mirror made me so weak in the knees that I had to rest my back against the wall. My chin was parted by two ragged edges of skin and the cut was nearly through to the inside of my mouth.

- Do we have some closing strips and band aids to put on there? asks Chris.

- Yes, last drawer on the left. And get the bottle of peroxide that’s next to them!

We clean the wound by basically pouring peroxide on the chin while I hold my head over the sink. I then try to bring the edges together and Christopher attempts to dry the area and apply bandages. At first, nothing adheres since there is constant oozing. At last, even though it looks like a plastic surgeon’s nightmare, the bandages are staying in place.

- You’ll have to go the hospital and get some stitches or this could leave a nasty scar, warns Chris.

- The thought of that just irks me but I think you’re right and I’d better get that wound checked out and closed properly.

I get in my car to go to the hospital and as I’m driving, I notice the index of my right hand is starting to swell. That’s kind of strange. I might have to have it looked at while I’m there.

The triage nurse asks me about the reason for my visit and medical history. She takes my vitals and examines my chin as best she can, considering the messy “Band-Aid” job. I also mention that my index finger has been getting more swollen over the past hour or so. The swelling started near the fingertip and has steadily progressed toward the hand. She takes a pen to mark the extent of the swelling at this time and tells me to take a seat in the waiting room. There is approximately a three-hour wait to see a physician so I settle in with a book, which is always in my bag for just such occasions.

Names are called out at varying intervals. As some patients leave, new ones arrive so that the waiting area stays busy and loud. After an hour and a half, my hand is quite sore so I put the book down and take a peek. My finger is more plump, reddish blue and the swelling now extends past the ink line by half an inch...On top of that, it is quite warm to the touch. There is clearly an infection and it’s spreading. This is so odd because I cannot see any scratches or wound that could have caused this. There is only a very small red dot on the soft fleshy part of my finger which resembles a tiny puncture mark.

Now I’m becoming more concerned. I go back to see the nurse and show her my hand and complain about the pain. She tells me it should be my turn soon and gives me pain medication. I go back to my seat and by now, I cannot concentrate enough to read, plus holding the book is too painful. I try delicately massaging my deformed hand. My finger has the appearance of a breakfast sausage as all the little lines have disappeared and I cannot bend it at all anymore. Nearly an hour later, my name is called out and I’m told to go to room D. I’m greeted by a medical resident who examines my chin and tells me that stitches would be beneficial and that I’ll have to wait a little longer to see the plastic surgeon. She also prescribes some antibiotics to take care of the infection in my hand.

More waiting. Swelling is invading a larger portion of my hand. More waiting. Finally, there is a knock at the door and the specialist comes in. I go over my story yet again. Force of habit, I bring up my right hand to show the wound on my face. The surgeon gasps and gently takes hold of my hand.

- This is a much more serious problem! When a finger is involved in such a way and treatment is not provided promptly, damage to the tendons occurs and its function will be gravely compromised. Not to mention the risk of the infection spreading and causing sepsis.

The expression on my face must have betrayed the depth of my anguish before I added with panic in my voice:

- But I’m a piano teacher, I need full use of all my digits!

- I can provide treatment for you. It is a surgical procedure where I create two small openings to drain and clean out the infection.

- Is surgery needed for sure, can’t antibiotics take care of the infection?

- Not at this point. You actually need to be admitted right away to get antibiotics through an IV line. Next, you’ll be put on the surgery list for tomorrow.

- Ok, ok...I stammer, as I am grasping with all the implications. How long will it take to heal?

- You’ll be in the hospital for 2 to 3 days so I can make sure the healing is progressing adequately. After that, you’ll be on IV antibiotics for 10 days and then another week in pill form. You’ll also have to do some exercises to regain full mobility in that finger.

Oh, my dear lord! I have to leave a message at the music school that I will not be able to work next week which happens to be the last week before my long-anticipated vacation, a train trip across the country. Will we even be able to go? Maybe we need to postpone or cancel? I need to talk to Chris.

Once I am settled in a shared hospital room, wearing a wonderfully airy gown and linked to an IV pole, I finally get a chance to call him. I am sobbing from all the anxiety and the exhaustion of this whole situation. I tell him that my chin and lip are not really an issue at this point.

- That’s great! why are you crying?

- When I was waiting to see the doctor, my right index finger and then my hand started to swell very badly. Apparently, I have a very serious infection that requires surgery as soon as possible or my finger will become severely impaired.

- Whaaat!?

- The doctor explained that it very likely started from bacteria on the cat’s claws penetrating deep into the tissues and getting trapped in as the wound closes from the outside. I will also need to be on IV antibiotics up to the day we’re supposed to leave on our vacation. We may not be able to go, I cry. Can we postpone or cancel?

- No, we cannot postpone and it’s too late to cancel. It’ll be disappointing if we can’t do it, but your health comes first. Anyway, there is still a chance everything will heal ok and we’ll be able to go as planned, Chris says in a reassuring tone. And it’s super late now, you’d better try and get some sleep and I’ll come and see you early tomorrow morning. I love you and try not to worry too much.

- I love you too...

By luck of the draw, I was the first one on the surgeon’s slate the next day. I am not even sure how long the procedure took but I woke up, I was told it went well and I was brought back to my room. I spent the next two days in kind of a daze from the drugs and also from the nights of interrupted sleep in the hive that was my hospital room. Thank goodness Chris and my sister were able to spend time with me and bring some much-appreciated distraction.

Thankfully, the healing progressed well enough that I was discharged from the hospital early on the third day. We listened to the home care information and instructions on how to administer the medication through the IV line already in my arm and went home.

- Hi my sweet Ben, thank God that awful canine creature is gone!

The next days went by uneventfully, my finger still felt very stiff but the pain was diminishing gradually and it was returning to its normal size. However, the final verdict on the success of the operation would come at next week’s post-op appointment.

The day of that visit finally arrives. It also happens to be the day that our train trip is supposed to start...We pack our suitcases hoping for the best and make our way to the hospital.

The surgeon unwraps the bandages and examines the incision sites and the hand as a whole.

- Hum. Hum. Well, it’s looking pretty good. No need for another intervention and the IV antibiotics can be stopped.

- That’s fantastic news, what a relief! I say in a quivering voice.

A nurse removes the IV line and puts new and smaller bandages and gives me oral antibiotics.

- Ok, let’s get out of here quick, we only have 30 minutes to get to the train station! says Chris excitedly.

Thankfully, it all worked out. We made it on the train and enjoyed a great and scenic trip.

I obviously blame Dexter for this whole traumatic situation. I should have known that the dog was trouble after he ruined two pairs of glasses. He startled and scared Ben so much that my poor cat reacted instinctively and was just trying to get away as fast as he could. If that beast of a dog had not behaved so badly, none of this huge mess would have happened.

I was and will always remain faithful to the feline race.