My dog may not be as cool as the one that likes to suck on psychedelic toads (okay, I had to sneak that link in there somewhere) but we’ve been together a long time, and I knew that something was wrong when she didn’t hop off the couch to greet me when I got up a couple days ago.

She seemed to be limping, but oddly not in pain, as if her back leg didn’t work anymore. When I took her out back to do her business, she didn’t want to climb up. A trip to the vet was necessary. The vet confirmed the not-very-good: Dizzy had torn a knee ligament – a ruptured left cranial cruciate ligament, to be precise. The fix, apparently, is looping a nylon rope through the knee in such a way that it mimics what the ligament used to do, although oddly enough, the rope goes on the outside of the knee, meaning Dizzy will have a tubular scar around her knee for the rest of her life.

So she went in yesterday and came home today, and man, is she grumpy. Even bribes of normally forbidden human food like tater tots can’t buy her love right now. She has to stay confined in a dog crate for the next few weeks, and to be fair, right now she doesn’t seem eager to leave it, although this will at some point result in much whinage.

To make matters worse, my cat had surgery as well last week to remove the metal plate from her accident last fall, which had two unfortunate ramifications. First off, I can no longer claim I have a cyborg cat. Second, I had to buy a SECOND dog crate to have room for both injured animals. Really, my living room is like a furry M*A*S*H unit right now.

Also, my third pet (another cat) looks seriously upset all the time. We can’t at this time tell if she’s concerned she’ll disappear and reappear locked in a cage, or if she’s just jealous she doesn’t get her own.