Days like today...

....realllllly make me wish Randy was here.

That's Mocha- our brat.  And our baby.  Well, mostly Randy's baby.  (She loves me only when he isn't around.)  I give her a lot of credit for helping him through his PTSD issues last year- I'm betting she knows more about his deployments than I do.

This dog, for some crazy reason, has become my world with Randy being gone.

I'm not exactly sure when that happened, but I'm pouring a lot more time and energy into her because Randy isn't here, and because she's my responsibility... and because besides me, Randy loves her bestest haha.  

Which is why I freak out about the smallest thing going wrong with her- and why I am freaking out today.  I got a phone call about 10 this morning from daycare.  (Yes, she goes to daycare, laugh all you want!) She had played pretty hard with her puppy friends all morning, and now wasn't putting any weight on her back leg.  I told them I would come pick her up and take her to the vet.  

We got to the vet, and were seen by a newbie, whom I like to refer to as Doogie Howser.  What he told me sent me slightly over the edge, and I did cry a little bit, but I managed to keep it together.  Apparently my dog had blown out her knee, and/or torn a ligament.  I can't be completely sure which- because he kept using all these smart person big boy vet words.  He gave me the name of a specialized surgeon, who I needed to call and schedule an appointment.  When I called, the surgery would be $3500.  For a dog.  UGH!!!!

Now onto my meltdown.  (This is only my second for this deployment- so I am averaging about one a month- not too shabby!)

I am completely beating myself up over this because I am responsible for her, and I am responsible for her being hurt.  I know its completely irrational, but its how I feel.  I take one look at her and start crying- because she's such a good dog and would never let me know that she is in any sort of pain.  She just kinda hangs out, and looks at me while I sob, and licks the tears off my face.  She's walking around- just not putting any weight on her back leg, but she just breaks my heart.  I want to be able to help her- but I just can't.  

So this time, my mommy got the brunt of my meltdown.  I really am not sure what I would do without my parents!!!  She told me to call Doogie tomorrow, and ask him all the questions I am just now thinking of, maybe get a second opinion, and shop around to see if I can get this surgery done for cheaper.  She also volunteered to come down and pup-sit after Mocha does have the surgery, if it comes to that.  Based on what I've read, the recovery is 12 weeks.  

Today was just another one of those days that I realllly, realllly, selfishly wish Randy were here.  If he were, he would completely take over and figure this out for me, because really, I am not good when the crisis is happening to me.  And he knows that about me, and loves me despite that... ha!  I really wish that I wasn't waiting another week for a phone call, and that I could just pick up a phone or shoot him an email and know I would get a response.  

Blah.  

Today, deployments suck.