Yesterday Winston had his third follow-up visit post-surgery. The vet says he's doing well, but told me I should still keep him on leash or crated except when I'm able to closely supervise him.
Oops. He's been off leash since the first week after surgery, with me scrambling around to keep him under control. Hopefully I can keep Winston from self-destruction over another fourteen days because that's when we have our (hopefully) final appointment. The vet says if everything looks good, Winston will be taken off restriction.
Winston, of course, doesn't feel he should ever have been on any sort restriction at all, and is offended over my helicopter pet parent ways.
What do you mean, we can't wrestle?
I think this poor puppy has given up on ever being allowed to have fun again. He hasn't gone to puppy day care, been in a training class, or strolled through delicious goose poop in more than a month.
Geez, Mom, whatever happened to the good old days?