What a day!

Oh, Zaccheus and I had a crazy, crazy day! I called first thing this morning about getting his tail docked, and they told me to bring him in at 10:30. So I did. Dr. Sandy, who happens to be married to Dr. Tim, was very surprised that Zacchie was even alive at this point. She said he was doing much better, and I told her all the things I had been doing to help him. So far so good. We talked about what his chances are for a good life, she looked at his cleft palate, and said it looks like it is healing over. It will still require surgery when he is bigger, but for now, he is doing okay.
Not great, but not badly. Much better than when my sister called out the S.O.S. that he was gasping for air and they didn't expect him to survive.
So she takes him to the back to do his procedure, and when she returns with him, she tells me to keep him quiet, only get him out of bed to feed him.
But when I got him home, looked under the blanket, and saw the blood, I kind of panicked. Called Sister. How much do they bleed???
Don't overreact, it will stop soon. Okay, Diane. Breathe.
I am usually good in crisis. I don't faint at the sight of blood. But helplessness freaks me out, and he looked pretty helpless. Called Dr. Sandy. He's still bleeding? they ask. Hold please.
*commercial for some veterinary medicine*
Mrs. Thomas, Dr. Sandy says if he is still bleeding, bring him back.
Is it time to panic yet???
Don't freak out the kids.
Deep breath.
Get in the car and drive 35 miles to the office.
One of his stitches came out. They fix him up and clean up the blood.
Good thing you called, say they. We're glad you brought him back.
Me too.
Sigh of relief, drive home.
He is sleeping off and on. The rest of the time he is crawling around his bed trying to get away from the pain. I hate myself for letting them do it to him. I don't care if he IS a Yorkie and they always dock Yorkie tails. He could have kept his tail, and I would have loved him, tail and all.