Sometimes you get the squirrel, and sometimes the squirrel gets you.

Early summer is usually a time for frolicking in the woods – at least that’s what QC Outdoors blogger Teri Stickler thought until her hiking buddy Kaia, suffered a “football injury” while chasing a squirrel.

By Teri Stickler and her Samoyed, Kaia

Sweet-smelling, crisp, and cool spring mornings. Uncut grass glistening from a gentle night rain. Birds enjoying an early breakfast while the morning clutch of squirrels, grey, red, and black, feast together on a selection of acorns and spilled sunflower seed.

Enter one perky Samoyed.

Scanning, itching, tensed at the starting gate: BANG! Slider door open, starting horn sounds and zing… off she goes. Two bounds and off the deck. Flying, beeline on two ‘foxy’ squirrels. They race for their lives. Bound for the sturdy oak and safe- haven high above. One goes left. One goes right.

Kaia on her bed following surgery

And one screaming white bullet bears down, inches away from a stretched-out red tail. Quick 90-degree turn and the squirrel reaches the oak. One 90-degree turn, and the fluffy white bullet slides and goes down.

Squirrel, safe. Kaia, disappointed … and now discovering pain and a hind leg. On three legs, she manages to return to the deck. And so begins the long journey. Analysis, diagnosis, surgery, and recovery. A long, long recovery.

We (or at least I) no longer care much for squirrels. It was always fun to watch the interaction between resident squirrels and Kaia. Always fun to see Kaia sitting under the big oak, glued to their every move, hoping they’d come down and run somewhere. Entertaining and harmless. Never once anticipating what might happen. Never once anticipating Kaia with a ‘football injury.’

Kaia begins her recovery

So, here’s where we are. Long walks to parks near and far, nix that for now. Short walks in the yard and neighborhood, nix that for now too.

Kaia ruptured her cranial cruciate ligament, her CCL. That’s what it is in dogs. In humans, we call it our ACL. It will not heal on its own, at least not properly, if at all.

With a partial tear, her body would try to heal the injury, but even that is not the best way forward. For correct repair and the best road back to full function of that knee, surgery.

If this injury were mine, I’d be heading straight to ORA. For Kaia, we visited our primary care veterinarian to learn what was injured and how to make it all better. Following a full body exam, some manual manipulation, and x-rays, the verdict was in.

And so began my education, appointments, and everyday life, greatly altered for months to come.

Here is what is so amazing about this woman’s best friend: Kaia knows that one leg hurts, and she knows she cannot put it down and use it, but she also acts like she wants to do everything we always did. She wants to go for a walk. She wants to get a toy from her selection of hundreds. She even acts happy and peppy, loving life. I find this amazing. I also find it difficult to explain to her that things will have to get worse before they get better.

And so, our summer plans change.

Surgery was scheduled. We knew what must be, and we trusted in the care and expertise of her surgeon.

Kaia’s surgery is called a TPLO, short of a Tibial Plateau Leveling Osteometry. Kaia’s ligament was fully ruptured. The surgeon will realign her tibia with her femur, stabilizing the knee joint and, after a long rehab, bring its usage back nearly to 100%, but that’s a long way off.

After a thorough consultation (on May 4th) with Kaia’s surgeon, she was taken in for surgery. Some may not care to know what all that entailed, but if you are at all interested, google TPLO and watch a YouTube video.

The procedure is quite intense, interesting, and generally quite successful. Kaia remained at the Clinic for the good part of the day but was released to come home that evening. I was concerned about how we’d get her into the SUV, then how we’d get her out and into the house. Once again, that girl amazed me.

With the aid of two vet techs, Kaia actually walked to the car. We gently got her in the back seat, and home we went. Once in the drive, thank goodness for unbelievable neighbors, there was our neighbor waiting at the top of the drive, ready to help this girl out of the car, into the house, and to her bed.

Now keep in mind Kaia is under strict restrictions. No running, jumping, and no steps. The word of the day for the next few months is “Slowly.”

We did need to negotiate two steps into the house. A belly strap and a leash helped just enough that Kaia was able to negotiate the route. She headed straight to her comfy bed. Or, shall I say, headed to what she remembered to be her comfy bed?

Unfortunately, I, in my great wisdom, had removed her homey ‘den.’ Her sanctuary. Her kennel, her Home Sweet Home, had been replaced with a nice, big soft doggie bed placed right where her kennel had always been.

As she headed purposely down the hall, she went to turn into the bedroom. She stopped abruptly and stared. I was behind her, but I knew exactly the look on her face! “My Gosh! Where’s my bed? Where’s my kennel?” She let out all her breath and her heart dropped. All she wanted to do was fall on her bed, and her bed was gone.

Sasha looking more than a little distressed

We worked to convince her to lie down. She side-stepped, took a very long drink of water from her dish, then did as she was asked and laid down.

My neighbor left (after a huge thank you from me,) and Sasha, Kaia’s canine ‘sister’ came to welcome her home and check her wounds. I found a spot on the floor next to my sweet girl, and there we stayed.

Now, I’ve mentioned the restrictions, but there are more.

You might guess one big tabu is not licking. After leaving the vet clinic, her leg was bandaged and wrapped to the hip, but even still, it is critically important she not lick the surgical site.

This brings us to the next lovely piece of apparatus Kaia gets to wear for weeks to come. You likely have a guess, and if you are thinking of the huge cone she will wear around her neck and sticking out from her face, then you get a gold star.

The wonderful cone of shame.

And now you understand why I felt it necessary to remove her kennel. I mean, how in the world would she negotiate to lay on her bed, leg bandaged and a 12” cone sticking straight out from her face and being in a barely big enough cage? I thought I was being nice.

By the way, we never refer to her kennel as a cage. We call it her ‘home.’ And yes, she loves it, so I have never been able to get rid of it. Just thought I should share; it is her choice, not really mine.

In search of signs of early summer …

Teri explores the woods outside her back door while Kaia recovers at home

For those of you who were looking forward to an early summer edition of local wildflowers, Kaia did grant me a solo journey in search of some pretty blooms. As we await her ability to hike again, we share with you some woodland beauty.

Some lavender wild geranium, white and lavender wild phlox, deep red prairie trillium, and always an exciting find, Jack-in-the-Pulpit. Also, along the trail were lots of wild ginger. Unfortunately, most of the blooms were well past their prime by now.

Here’s a hint when trying to find Jack-in-the-pulpit. I know you’ve heard the adage, “Leaves of three, let it be.” BUT, in seeking the illusive pulpit, watch for a relatively tall plant, taller than many plants around it. You’ll see three big leaves on top, together like a pinwheel on its side. Look underneath and on the stem. You might not see a pulpit on every plant, but that is where it will be if there is one.

Kaia wants you to get out there and enjoy the woods. Do it for you. Do it for her.