Doink Has A Boo Boo

If you follow me on Facebook, (You do, don’t you?  Please?) you’ll know Mr. Doinkers somehow injured himself. He got a booboo.  An owie.  And I can tell you, when the pig ain’t happy, nobody’s happy. Especially me.

Sometimes he needed his purple blankie.

Sometimes the green blankie made him feel better.

Last week he started limping.  Dramatically.  Not walking on his front left foot.  There was no visible injury.  It’s very hard to watch a pig limp and I could tell he was uncomfortable. There’s no way he would walk like that just to drive me crazy, right? On the other hand…every day during treat time…yep, he came a runnin’.  A little awkward, but nonetheless that pig was haulin’ a** towards the food.

Part of what I love about taking care of these animals is the little lessons I’m forced to learn. When I noticed Doink was hurt, I immediately panicked.  That’s always what I do first.  My mind starts racing—how did he do it—will he let me look at his foot—can I get a vet to come out—will they need to put him under to do an exam—what if he needs to go to the hospital…OMG I’m leaving to go visit Excellent Daughter Libby and what if it gets worse while I’m gone…you get the idea.  I go totally nuts in under five minutes.

When he stands real still, I worry.  I see pain in his eyes.

This week’s little lesson has been to CALM DOWN.  I called the vet, we talked.  As I was describing Doink’s behavior and activity, I realized maybe, just maybe, this was not the end of the world.  Doinkers is not known for his strong fortitude.  Any little thing can get him grumpy, and I’m gonna guess his pain threshold is somewhere close to non-existent.  She recommended rest (ha!) and prescribed a short course of a pain reliever/anti-inflammatory. And patience—on my part.  (I sure wish that came in a bottle.)

I went to the pharmacy to pick up the drugs.  Asked for it under our last name.  “No, we don’t have a prescription for you,” they said.  Went back home.  Thought about it.  Called pharmacy.  “Do you have a prescription for a pig, by chance?” I asked.  “Is your pig named Doink?  Doink Pig Hobbs?” was the response.  “It was filed under “Pig” not Hobbs.”  I laughed all the way back to the pharmacy.

I will be saving this bottle!

Four days went by with no signs of relief.  He moved very little, limping dramatically when he did.  (Except for those afternoon treats.) Then…it got better.  After breakfast, instead of going back in the shed he ambled out and wandered around the corners of the barnyard, making sure I wasn’t hiding treats from him somewhere.  He took a nap in the sun.

Yes lady, I’m walking around. Must you take a photo of EVERYTHING?

My barnyard sitter (he’s a first-timer at my house, and I think he’s a total winner!) reports that Doink is quite capable of chasing him around the barnyard, but still limps a bit when not running full speed.

I believe Doink is going to be fine…just fine 🙂

He is a model patient and continues to take the vet’s suggestion of rest very seriously.

(Shared at From the Farm, Little House Friday, Old-Fashioned Friday, HomeAcre Hop, Simple Lives Thursday, Homestead Hop, Maple Hill Hop, (mis)Adventures Monday, Thank Goodness It’s Monday and Simple Saturdays)