Worst mother ever.

So Mikey broke his leg. It was probably one of my worst moments in this country to date, too. To make it quick: 6:30pm last Thursday. I was in the kitchen, and he was playing outside. I called him in. He started running in. I turned back towards the kitchen to wash some dishes, and 2 seconds later, I heard him yelping. Poor little guy was on his back with his arm out to the side...

...Don't really remember what happened after that- all I know is that at some point, I was walking through the streets of my town, crying, asking if anyone knew where a veterinarian lived. You see, it's very rare to find a Dominican who cares about animals and/or knows how take care of one. While some were sympathetic, most people said, "Oh he's fine! So do you want to come in and have some juice?"

Finally, I went to Magdalena's (basically my mom/ one of my closest friends) house, and finally I found a little sympathy and support. They quickly called their vet friend, and even though he wasn't home, it was a relief that somebody took this seriously. Although they would later make fun of how hysterical I was, at the time they were very understanding and did everything they could to make the situation better: joked, offered me & Mikey food, and even rubbed Mikey down with Bengay (still not sure that this did anything besides make poor Mikey greasy and smell like mint, but it's the thought that counts).

Once it was decided that there was nothing I could do until the morning, I went home and called the Peace Corps doctor (an amazing woman who LOVES animals). She told me to come to the capital in the morning to go to a well-respected vet, which sounded much better to me than walking all over Moca the next day, looking for a vet who may or may not actually have his license. So that's what we did. 6am the next morning, Mikey and I were on our way to Santo Domingo where we would later find out that he has a fractured wrist.

He should be better in about 21 days, so that's a relief. He's been the perfect little patient, and finally we have some sympathy from some of my friends in town who thought I was crazy. Or maybe they still think that. Oh well.

Having a dog has seriously made me reconsider ever having kids. Not only is it difficult to have to think about somebody else's needs all of the time, but it is almost impossible not to worry about their little life that is basically in your hands. What if I screw him up? I want to give a shout-out to my mom right now (Happy belated Mother's Day!) because I know I was not always the easiest child to deal with. I have broken several bones in my 23 years, and I wasn't half as tranquilo as Mikey was during the emergency. My poor mom had to listen to me bawling all of the way to the Emergency Room on several occasions, and she was always calm/cool/collected while I was worrying about everything from possibly missing cheerleading tryouts to thinking I was going to have to get a limb amputated. Bless my mom's heart, and thank goodness one of us is sane. Hopefully by the time I have kids (that is an IF statement), I will have learned a little about this whole motherhood thing.

Thanks, mom.