The direction of this day will be determined after this one wakes up:
Last night during a lively round of ring-around-the-rosey in the kitchen, Daddy was holding Emi’s hand in a fast turn when her arm (or elbow) (or wrist) softly popped. She immediately started complaining that her arm hurt. We distracted her with many tricks as the evening progressed: the good ol’ frozen-green-beans-ice-pack; yet another viewing of The Secret Life of Pets; a popsicle; a warm bath… and she could be distracted, for 15 minutes or so at a time… but once the distraction wore off, more complaints would arise, which is uncharacteristic of this tough little lady. Knowing a trip to the doc could wait until morning light because we collectively possess more than a little of that country-vet-tech-knowledge, we tested right here at home her ability to move the arm in every way (not perfect), and Daddy detected a little swelling in the arm too.
So we finally gave her a dose of Tylenol, and by the time she went to bed she said she was all better. She slept all night, too.
Daddy’s headed to Butte Camp today to move cows. I’m up early fixing the meatballs and green beans and chocolate chip cookies I’d planned for lunch for the crew when they get back in… just in case I need to run off and take Emi to town for a check-up.
Because I’m still a little suspicious of that arm. It will be interesting to see if she mentions it when she wakes. I don’t know exactly how today will unfold… but I pray the next right thing will always be obvious.
© Tami Blake