Recovery

Sam's been recovering from his surgery, so there hasn't been much to report. He spent the first night howling despite the extra pain medication I gave him, until I finally let him in my room where he promptly fell asleep on my bed. For the rest of the morning and afternoon he would cry intermittently, and he tried not to sit down too much. (In fact, he took to lying down in the "bow" position, so his front half was on the floor but his affected rear end remained safely in the air.)

Around six o'clock or so, Sam apparently had enough of playing the convalescent. He started flying around the yard, jumping, and launching himself into the pool despite our protests. Dad was swimming laps and Sam flew off the side onto Dad's back in the middle of the pool like he was landing on an aircraft carrier. He started playing with the neighbor girl dogs again, running in zigzags, leaping up at random intervals, and generally making a fool of himself while trying to burn off his pent-up energy.

Last night he slept soundly in his own bed and seems to be in fine spirits today. He hasn't needed any more pain medication, since he isn't crying or walking gingerly anymore. I checked to make sure he didn't rip his stitches out during his burst of insanity yesterday, but they're still holding up. And I suppose if he were going to be sore, the day after being a nutcase would be the time. But he seems back to his usual self--no further problems with sitting or lying down, and he's ignoring his stitches quite well.

Dad has been bonding with Sam throughout this emasculating time, probably because he feels sorry for Sam in a way us girls can never fully understand. So, today's pictures are in honor of the men of the house:

Sam with Dad back in late March


Sam with Dad yesterday