I’m the type of girl that is likely to faint from the sight of blood. My knees buckle, my palms get sweaty and I start looking for a spot to “land”. Especially when it’s fresh blood, bright red, dripping from someone I love. Someone like my puppy.
Last night upon spotting a red trail of paw prints on the hardwood floors of our apartment, I panicked. Upon further inspection, I saw a piece of Cosimo’s paw pad hanging. Instant nausea.
“J.!!!!!!!!!!!!! Come quick!! And bring a bandage!” I screamed down the stairs. You never realize how much you love someone until you see them in pain. Bandaging a 130 lb. Mastiff is a skill in itself. But he was a good sport. Meaning J. He didn’t buckle, he stayed calm, he washed, disinfected and acted as a one-man mastiff triage center.
Seems Cosi went a little wild in the park last night and took off into the woods, as children will do. Being the concerned parents, we scrambled to find the first aid kit and make sure he didn’t need to be rushed to the Vet. As someone who doesn’t have kids yet, I instantly sympathized with all my friends who do have mini-mes running around. They have dealt with cuts, scrapes, stitches, broken limbs and far worse.
What materialized after the initial panic was immense, unconditional love. Love for my pup and love for my boyfriend who was the savior and who made everything OK. On this Valentine’s Day, I’m thankful that both my loves are healing and that they are in my life to heal me from my daily hurts, too.
Happy V Day to my man and my puppy boo boo.