So, Coco is fine.

Near as the doc can tell, she’s just been playing us for attention. Which is to say: our increased worry and attention over her has caused her anxiety to spike, and we all got caught up in a feedback loop.

I buy it. Completely. In fact, it’s something we’ve been considering this whole time. Is Coco in pain? Or is she just trying to go back to her normal life, and really hating that we’re standing in her way? It seems to be the latter. Mostly, anyway. She’s undoubtedly uncomfortable. But the Doc checked her for pain, and she didn’t react. She’s progressing neurologically really, really well. She’s eating and pooping and doing all of that stuff fine. There’s no indication of pain. Which is…such a relief.

An ornery Coco I can contend with. A Coco in pain I cannot.

In the realm of managing anxiety, we have some new weapons to deploy. A drug starting with “ace” that knocks dogs OUT. And it did. We gave her one at the doc’s office because we were right on schedule, and she knocked the fuuuuuck out. Which is what we need. It’s what she needs. She needs to rest. Both body and mind. She ended up sleeping for almost five hours. She hasn’t done that during that stretch of time (afternoon into early evening) in, like, five days. It was SUCH A RELIEF. We also have the thumbs up to administer CBD as necessary.

Liz and I got to watch TV together (this season of The Vow is fucking wiiilllddd). I got to watch the Warriors dismantle the Clippers. We played a DJ set together for the first time in months. It was a glorious evening. Mostly because we knew that Coco was actually okay. We just needed to calm her down by calming ourselves down.

She fell earlier in the day. She jumped right out of her crate, which was plugged in up on the stroller, meaning she fell about two and a half feet. She landed mostly on her neck and shoulder first, and then the rest of her back. I think that might have saved her from more serious injury. We hope. She’s been totally normal in the aftermath of that fall, but we have to watch for signs of something serious for the next couple days. I have hopes she’s okay. It was horrifying. It happened in an instant. The crate was open because I’d just fed her. Neither of us had a clue she had the strength in her back legs to jump out. I hope hope hope she’s okay. I think she will be. I think we got lucky.

Work was…fitful today. But, I can make up the ground I lost tomorrow. And in that regard…it’s time for the sleeps. Good night.