Making myself the fun police
Even though I'm almost certainly never going to have children, I would always keep an open mind and liked entertaining various 'what if' scenarios that I might find myself in as a parent. One of them was the dilemma of whether I should babyproof a house or whether it was needlessly overprotective. I understood that the practice was necessary for peace of mind, but statistically speaking the rates of hospitalization for household injuries was pretty low and rarely life-threatening.
I eventually concluded that while I would take some reasonable precautions with a growing infant, I probably wouldn't go to many of the extremes that other parents go through while babyproofing.
But now that my dog is recovering from surgery, I'm becoming extra cautious about her health and well being as I want her to get back on her feet as soon as she can. Namely, this means making sure she doesn't run around too much and bust her stitches open. Sedatives have helped calm her down a lot, but she's always been an easily excitable, extremely energetic, and fun-loving girl that normally I would love indulging. But as is the case, the sedatives only go so far and it's pretty easy to tell when they've worn off on her. This leaves her vulnerable to reopening the incision site with her normal spastic episodes.
She loves going outside and I don't mind going out with her, but whenever I start to put on pants or ask if she wants to go out, she'll leap off the bed and start running up and down the hallways waiting for me to be ready to leave. It's freakin' adorable and usually my favorite part of the day, but lately it's been filling me with dread because I don't want to have to rush her back to the vet for something like this. She can be a little too eager for her own good, and now I can sympathize with the babyproofers.
I've had to completely avoid saying the word 'outside' and have since turned my hallway into a maze of sorts made up of laundry hampers, Amazon boxes, and office chairs. All so that she can't run freely whenever she finds her happy feet. It's pretty dumb looking at this hodgepodge obstacle course just outside my bedroom door, but it's been effective in getting her to slow down enough so that I can take her for a walk with some peace of mind.
She's been handling her recovery great otherwise and I think I can safely remove the skin staples in a week. It's just that she's a lively one and is a risk to herself more than anything. She even gave herself happy tail a few times before I adopted her, and then splattered blood on my walls for the first week until I got her to calm down enough for it to heal properly.
Anyways, making adult decisions feels weird. As much as I like being the laidback dog owner, sometimes you have to do the mature thing and turn your apartment into a makeshift jungle gym
I eventually concluded that while I would take some reasonable precautions with a growing infant, I probably wouldn't go to many of the extremes that other parents go through while babyproofing.
But now that my dog is recovering from surgery, I'm becoming extra cautious about her health and well being as I want her to get back on her feet as soon as she can. Namely, this means making sure she doesn't run around too much and bust her stitches open. Sedatives have helped calm her down a lot, but she's always been an easily excitable, extremely energetic, and fun-loving girl that normally I would love indulging. But as is the case, the sedatives only go so far and it's pretty easy to tell when they've worn off on her. This leaves her vulnerable to reopening the incision site with her normal spastic episodes.
She loves going outside and I don't mind going out with her, but whenever I start to put on pants or ask if she wants to go out, she'll leap off the bed and start running up and down the hallways waiting for me to be ready to leave. It's freakin' adorable and usually my favorite part of the day, but lately it's been filling me with dread because I don't want to have to rush her back to the vet for something like this. She can be a little too eager for her own good, and now I can sympathize with the babyproofers.
I've had to completely avoid saying the word 'outside' and have since turned my hallway into a maze of sorts made up of laundry hampers, Amazon boxes, and office chairs. All so that she can't run freely whenever she finds her happy feet. It's pretty dumb looking at this hodgepodge obstacle course just outside my bedroom door, but it's been effective in getting her to slow down enough so that I can take her for a walk with some peace of mind.
She's been handling her recovery great otherwise and I think I can safely remove the skin staples in a week. It's just that she's a lively one and is a risk to herself more than anything. She even gave herself happy tail a few times before I adopted her, and then splattered blood on my walls for the first week until I got her to calm down enough for it to heal properly.
Anyways, making adult decisions feels weird. As much as I like being the laidback dog owner, sometimes you have to do the mature thing and turn your apartment into a makeshift jungle gym