Hello dear friends,
Readers of my diary entries will be familiar with me telling a tale of some creature whose life has been touched by the kindness of our rescue centre here in Goa. But this time my story is of an autobiographical nature.
As one of the senior members of the resident Goa pack I know that it's my duty to set a good example for the youngsters to follow.
But I still like to have fun and, although I'm now considered by some of the young pups to be a mature old lady, I can still never resist the opportunity to join in with a race around with the others.
But recently one such escapade made me realise I'm not such a pup anymore and I've sadly paid the price.
I'm usually the one to tell the others to keep their high spirits under control and I've learnt now that I should have listened to my own advice.
The incident occurred when a gang of us were joyously chasing through the jungle that surrounds the Animal Tracks centre. Then suddenly I got my paw snagged on a tree root and realised I'd really hurt myself. Luckily I was able to limp back to reception and receive prompt medical attention from the veterinary team. My paw was badly injured and an xray revealed the toe was broken.
So I had enforced kennel rest while the injuries healed and had to temporarily hand over my meeting and greeting duties to Peggy, but she's really not one to take anything too seriously and would sooner be out and about the centre looking for fun and mischief.
For what seemed like eternity I was confined to kennels to aid my recovery and keep me clean and relatively immobile. Despite the first rate medical attention and regular visits from everyone, I was bored and restless. I could not resist the temptation to chew at the dressing on my paw and it became infected and even more sore. So the vets put me in a ridiculous Elizabethan collar so that I couldn't reach to interfere with the injury. (I've banned any photos being published of me wearing such an unflattering outfit.)
But it did the trick and eventually the day came when the doctors decided I had healed enough to be discharged from hospital and resume my duties and my place amongst the Animal Tracks resident pack. I was warned that I must curtail my enthusiasm for the team games and sit on the side lines while the others played and I got back to peak fitness and allowed my still weakened toe to heal.
However I'm somewhat ashamed to say that I didn't heed the good advice and was soon tearing around again with the others. A painful lesson learnt as the toe quickly became fractured again and the prospects for its recovery were pessimistic, and the thought of further weeks confined to kennels too much for me to handle.
An emergency team consultation was called and we all decided that the best option for my recovery would be to lose the toe. So I had a relatively simple operation to amputate the offending digit and was back on my paws in no time at all.
As you can see it's hardly a disfigurement and it hasn't slowed me down at all. I could maybe use a little help with typing my diary but I won't be asking for Peggy's assistance - I've enlisted one of the IAR humans as my temporary secretary instead!