Last night I was playing with Lucy (our beloved little black lab) and picked her up.
She let out a yelp, which Lucy has only ever done once before when I was playing with her roughly.
Well, we left for a little while and came back to find Lucy was not willing to climb up on the couch (which you would think I'd be happy about, but...), and was just not terribly mobile.
I was going to just keep an eye on her, because with dogs half the time this stuff just passes. But the last time she yelped, we wound up with a trip to the vet and learned she has hip dysplacia, a fairly common problem in large-breed thorough-breds (part of why we went for 100% American Mutt when we adopted Scout).
Anyhow, at 2:30 AM I was walking into the emergency vet.
Lucy received a narcotic of some sort and... high animals are a really weird thing to deal with. She's also got some pills for the issue. She's resting next to Jamie on the couch, but we had to get her up there.
Because I'd stayed up late to keep an eye on her, and then missed sleep from about 2:00 - 4:30 AM, I'm a little punchy today.
I am most sad that it was my fault. Very Jack Torrance of me.
Lucy used to bounce all over the place and "delicate" was not a word I would have associated with her physique. But I need to adjust when we're playing, and not do anything as simple as lift her anywhere except onto the bed or into the car. And not take it as a sign that her jumping all over creation is the same thing as her getting picked up.