The Bichon Who Lived

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Jean-Luc, the Bichon Who Lived

Jean-Luc, my little Doo, had a follow-up appointment with the vet today to get his drains out.  Above is the picture I just took of him standing under our lilacs on our back deck this afternoon.  Though a little mussed, doesn’t he look so cute?

I wanted to take some pictures to document his trip to the vet, but he was shaking so profoundly that I thought it a cruelty to make any of the trip last longer than absolutely necessary.  He’s not a trembly wembly doggie at all like some smaller dogs are, (Bichon Frises, as a breed, are supposed to be jolly and cobby and not snippy and shaky, and Jean-Luc is no except to that rule.), so it made my heart break to see him so uncharacteristically panicked and agitated.

But once the drains were removed, and the wonderful hospital staff brought him back to my arms, the shaking and trembling immediately stopped and he gave them all his consummate, bright-eyed Jean-Luc-is-giving-you-his-gaze-of-endearing-cuteness for which he is very adroit.  They were appropriately enthralled.

As a result of his winning battle against death, he’s apparently garnered quite a little fan club of enthusiastic Jean-Luc admirers at the vet’s office.  Several of the techs who worked with him last week came out to pet and praise him and gush over him with astonishment at his strong will to live and his rather rapid recovery.  According to them and the vet, Jean-Luc put up quite the fight as evidenced by his broken tooth, very bloody nose, and magnificently large fat lip, all of which appear to be healing very nicely along with his slash and tear neck wounds.

It might be true that The Doo can’t bring down a buffalo, but he fought off something big and hungry, and has lived to poop on my living room rug another day.

He was back to his confident self for the ride home.  Honestly, before this happened, nothing bad has ever happened in his wee little life and I’ve been worried what this might do to his high spirit.  My worries are apparently ill-founded as his plans at this time seem to be to shake this off and go on living the life of a spoiled little flufferbutt who knows he owns the world.

He was curious and happy on the car ride home, all evidence of trembling gone, and promptly chased the cat about ten feet across the yard when we got out of the car.  Normally, I’d fuss at his bad kitty manners, but today it made me so happy so see him run that I almost praised him for it.

His bright-eyes have returned, he’s eating well, and carrying his plume of a tail up and over his back proud and strong once again.  I couldn’t be happier or more relieved.

Yes, as you can see from the above picture, his grooming currently leaves a lot to be desired. In truth, he doesn’t look very bichonly at this moment and if his breeder and the gorgeous Charles knew of his slovenly condition I’m afraid they might come and repossess him.  But he’s alive and well!  He gets his stitches out next Friday and after that we’ll see about seeing the groomer.

Thanks for those prayers and notes of concern; they’ve helped me a lot.  Jean-Luc thanks you too.

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14 thoughts on “The Bichon Who Lived

  1. >Julia, so nice to see you. I'm almost ready to forgive you for going to Nashville. But not quite yet. Thanks for keeping tabs on my little guy. He sort of does mean the world to me.

  2. >Hey Stephanie,Thanks for your continued support during this really hard time. Maybe pets shouldn't be as important as they are, but they sure are. I'd miss my little foot-warmer if he was gone.

  3. >So glad he's doing so well, so soon. What a fighter! Thanks for sharing his updates with us, Chloe. (oh, and if you are Princess are wondering, I'm TxHeather on the SL forums…..)

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