So, en route to SNT Friday I stop at the Gaviota rest area to let Bubba out for some water and a poop when an Irish Setter attacks him and shreds his left ear.
He is bleeding profusely and several people rush in to help. After the third wad of paper towels are completely soaked I can finally see that his ear is butterflied, the front and back of his ear are seperated and there is a thumb size chunk of ear hanging from his head.
There is an artery in the chunk that is pumping blood with each heartbeat (insert Monty Python scene here). I literally have blood up to my elbows when I finally pinch off the artery and begin to get the bleeding under control.
Thank God for Google and cell phones because a friend finds a Vet in Buellton about 15 minutes away.
After I slowed the bleed to a trickle I loaded Bubba back in the truck and headed to the Vet. They took him right in to surgery to try to repair the ear.
About 20 minutes later the Vet reported that the avulsed piece could not be saved, but they trimmed the ear and stitched the edge closed. Once his hair grows back you probably won't be able to tell.
I tell them I going camping in Pismo and they give me the OK to take Bubba. He'll be a little out of it from anesthesia, but all I have to do is keep him on his meds and out of the water. Off to Pismo we go
We pull in just before sunset Friday evening and get situated, set up camp, walk around and say "hi." Every thing looks like it will be fine.
Cocktails start flowing; good food, good conversation and everyone's off to bed. Or so I thought. . . .
About 2:00 am I awake to the Frat Party from hell; eight to ten hammered guys are hosting their own single sex Rave five feet from my tent (I measured in the morning and it was actually only four). House and Techno blare into the night while chug after chug of the beer bong keeps a steady supply of empty Keystone cans bouncing off the side of my tent. "Oh good" I think; if they drink enough beer, they'll pass out soon.
3:00 rolls around and I swear there are more people than at 2:00. The conversation consists of weather or not it is OK to burn more pallets. "We can always pick the nails out of the sand in the morning." The music continues; manhood is challenged and more beer bongs are swallowed. One guy takes chugs from a handle of vodka that looks to have been diluted slightly with orange juice while calling his buddies out as not having enough balls to drink another beer bong.
Seeing no end in sight to the House Party, I ask a couple of guys how much longer they plan on staying up. "Until we're out of booze" is the #1 answer. I ask if they realize it is now 3:30 and "No way dude!" tops the survey.
I've had enough at this point. If I don't act soon, the sun may come up before I get any sleep. I pull the truck around and turn the high beams on the party. After about 10 minutes of complaining, a couple of guys attempt to move the fire to another spot but most of the group stumbles off to bed. I park the truck and try to get some sleep.
Just after sunrise I'm jostled from two hours of sleep by the sounds of 2 cycle engines racing past camp. Soon the sound of mufflerless V8s fills the void between quads and it's time for breakfast.
Now with a full belly and some caffeine on board, Bubba and I head down to the 1 mile beach run/walk. Bubba is constantly annoyed by his bandage and has been trying to shake it off all morning. He succeeds by the starting line and exposes the raw edge of his ear to the elements.
After several failed attempts to repair the original bandage I realize I've got to start from scratch. By this time the ear is bleeding again and staying another day is out of the picture.
With some help I get Bubba's ear bandaged up well enough to travel. I pack up the truck, say some goodbyes and head back to the Vet in Buellton.
The Vet squeezes Bubba in as soon as she can. He winds up with a couple more stitches and a new bandage with his ear wrapped flat on his head.
Not so bad from the front:
The real damage was to the back:
Bubba's not to happy with the bandage:
Thanks to everyone who helped bandage/rebandage Bubba's ear and special thanks to Brent for letting me rifle through his first aid supplies
He is bleeding profusely and several people rush in to help. After the third wad of paper towels are completely soaked I can finally see that his ear is butterflied, the front and back of his ear are seperated and there is a thumb size chunk of ear hanging from his head.
There is an artery in the chunk that is pumping blood with each heartbeat (insert Monty Python scene here). I literally have blood up to my elbows when I finally pinch off the artery and begin to get the bleeding under control.
Thank God for Google and cell phones because a friend finds a Vet in Buellton about 15 minutes away.
After I slowed the bleed to a trickle I loaded Bubba back in the truck and headed to the Vet. They took him right in to surgery to try to repair the ear.
About 20 minutes later the Vet reported that the avulsed piece could not be saved, but they trimmed the ear and stitched the edge closed. Once his hair grows back you probably won't be able to tell.
I tell them I going camping in Pismo and they give me the OK to take Bubba. He'll be a little out of it from anesthesia, but all I have to do is keep him on his meds and out of the water. Off to Pismo we go
We pull in just before sunset Friday evening and get situated, set up camp, walk around and say "hi." Every thing looks like it will be fine.
Cocktails start flowing; good food, good conversation and everyone's off to bed. Or so I thought. . . .
About 2:00 am I awake to the Frat Party from hell; eight to ten hammered guys are hosting their own single sex Rave five feet from my tent (I measured in the morning and it was actually only four). House and Techno blare into the night while chug after chug of the beer bong keeps a steady supply of empty Keystone cans bouncing off the side of my tent. "Oh good" I think; if they drink enough beer, they'll pass out soon.
3:00 rolls around and I swear there are more people than at 2:00. The conversation consists of weather or not it is OK to burn more pallets. "We can always pick the nails out of the sand in the morning." The music continues; manhood is challenged and more beer bongs are swallowed. One guy takes chugs from a handle of vodka that looks to have been diluted slightly with orange juice while calling his buddies out as not having enough balls to drink another beer bong.
Seeing no end in sight to the House Party, I ask a couple of guys how much longer they plan on staying up. "Until we're out of booze" is the #1 answer. I ask if they realize it is now 3:30 and "No way dude!" tops the survey.
I've had enough at this point. If I don't act soon, the sun may come up before I get any sleep. I pull the truck around and turn the high beams on the party. After about 10 minutes of complaining, a couple of guys attempt to move the fire to another spot but most of the group stumbles off to bed. I park the truck and try to get some sleep.
Just after sunrise I'm jostled from two hours of sleep by the sounds of 2 cycle engines racing past camp. Soon the sound of mufflerless V8s fills the void between quads and it's time for breakfast.
Now with a full belly and some caffeine on board, Bubba and I head down to the 1 mile beach run/walk. Bubba is constantly annoyed by his bandage and has been trying to shake it off all morning. He succeeds by the starting line and exposes the raw edge of his ear to the elements.
After several failed attempts to repair the original bandage I realize I've got to start from scratch. By this time the ear is bleeding again and staying another day is out of the picture.
With some help I get Bubba's ear bandaged up well enough to travel. I pack up the truck, say some goodbyes and head back to the Vet in Buellton.
The Vet squeezes Bubba in as soon as she can. He winds up with a couple more stitches and a new bandage with his ear wrapped flat on his head.
Not so bad from the front:
The real damage was to the back:
Bubba's not to happy with the bandage:
Thanks to everyone who helped bandage/rebandage Bubba's ear and special thanks to Brent for letting me rifle through his first aid supplies