"I can explain all this."

A sentence that strikes fear into the hearts of mothers and wives everywhere.

To backtrack: Over the past 5 days, we have done 4 shows of the Kee High Drama Department's production of the musical "The Wizard of Oz."  Everything went really well.  The kids nearly killed themselves preparing, and it showed - the scene changes were smooth, the lighting and sound unobtrusive yet effective, the pacing excellent. I played in the pit orchestra. Miss B had 2 parts, Miss Gultch and a citizen of Oz, while Master K had 3 parts - a Winkie guard, an Oz guard, and a scary tree in the Haunted Forest. 

So anyway the last show was a Sunday matinee. The two older children and I made our triumphant return home only to be met at the kitchen door by 

1. A frantic dog with his head stuck in a box,
2. A frantic little girl shouting something incoherent, and 
3. Barry, saying, "I can explain all this."

Bo's head was in a box because Barry needed to keep him from messing with the GIANT CUT in his side and did not have an Elizabethan collar handy. As it happened, Barry let Bo out for a yard break, and Bo took off like a shot toward the garden, turned his head to look at Barry without actually slowing down, and slammed into the trailer to one of the sailboats, slicing his side on the sheet-metal fender of the trailer. Barry didn't realize Bo was hurt for probably 10 minutes, as Bo did not yelp and didn't want to come back in the house. Barry finally realized there was blood on the back step, and in the darkness he could not see where it came from. Finally he and Lil Miss A found a full-thickness, L-shaped cut or tear in Bo's flank. By the time I had gotten home, Barry had clipped the hair away and washed it with Betadine and was trying to get a bandage to stay on it to hold it shut while he figured out what else to do, but the bandage kept coming off.

Barry thought we might be able to SuperGlue the cut closed. I borrowed some SuperGlue from our neighbors, then we settled Bo down and removed the bandage. As soon as I saw the cut I said, "That's it, we're calling the emergency vet." I had not realized how deep it was before I saw it for myself. It's clear through but not into the muscle layer. It kept gaping open, and it was seeping blood.

Thankfully our wonderful vet in La Crescent, Dr. Marc Miller, met us at the clinic 45 minutes later and took care of Bo right then and there. He started by giving him IV sedation, then intubating him and giving him gas. Bo had a seizure as soon as the IV ketamine took effect, which scared me good; I thought we might lose him right then and there. But his heart was strong and he came out of it fine. Once he was sedated and intubated, Dr. Miller checked him more thoroughly, noting that he had bitten his tongue pretty hard, probably at the impact, which may be why he did not yelp at the time. 

It took 4 deep dermals and 7 subcuticular stitches to close the tear. Bo got subcutaneous antibiotics and then Dr. Miller woke him up and we bundled him into the car and took him home. He had a real E. collar by that point.

He had a rough night, and so all of us did, too, but he's doing better today - well enough to be intensely embarrassed by that collar! He keeps pleading with me to take it off. The cut looks clean and dry and Bo was anxious to eat breakfast this morning.

So all will be well soon.

And I have songs going through my head from the Oz score, and probably will for some time to come, whether I like it or not.