Underperforming Asset: Our Lame Dog After TPLO Surgery

Ever since she was a little girl, my wife wanted a Newfoundland. After researching the breed a bit, I could see why. They are undoubtedly the most gentle breed on the planet and perfect for a family with small children….or in our case, a baby.

From the moment we brought her home, we had issues. The dog seemed to suffer from stress and a chronic case of diarrhea. We thought, at first, that it was a food allergy and weaned her on and off of four different foods before turning to pharmaceutical resources. Heavy doses of Metronidazole, intestinal flora powder and a diet consisting of boiled chicken and rice mixed with kibble costing more than kobe beef seemed to help.  

A few weeks ago I noticed that Lulu, who is still less than a year old, was very tender around the lymph nodes under/behind her ears. When I asked the vet to check them out for me, I could tell from the not-so-subtle sigh and eye-roll that I was now officially “that guy”. When they returned seconds later saying: “Yup…it’s nothing. She’s fine.” I knew I had been permanently labeled as the hypochondriac owner of whom everyone was tired and that Lulu would never get a thorough examination again. When Lulu had trouble getting up from laying down the following day, we knew something was seriously wrong and when she fell over in the yard yelping two days after that, I threw her in the back of my Suburban and took her to one of the premier emergency veterinary hospitals in the area (VRC) for her mystery diagnosis. Within 12 hrs. they diagnosed her as having H.O.D….a condition that usually only presents in Weimaraners. She was admitted for a few days of observation which meant spending a couple hundred dollars a night on top of the emergency costs, meds, radiographs, etc…Slowly but surely this was tallying up to equal the cost of a summer vacation. But at least we finally knew what was wrong with her and had a potential answer to any and all previous issues.

Shortly after the three week recovery, we noticed that she was limping again. Another trip back to the vet revealed a torn ACL which was another few thousand dollars to repair using a procedure known as a “T.P.L.O.” in which two metal bars and 8 screws are used to take the place of the ligament. We requested a cosmetic closure (stitches on the inside) to prevent her from licking or chewing them which could possibly result in yet another trip to the animal hospital and thus make Lulu the “Six Thousand Dollar Dog”. The vet stressed the importance of strict adherence to the supportive therapy in order to prevent the other hind leg from blowing out (as is typical in giant breeds) and I took him seriously. He explained that some people get both done (like changing both headlamps on a car when only one burns out I presumed) as a precaution, but if we stuck to the routine…it shouldn’t be an issue.

I’ve been spending the past few weeks adding the care for a debilitated animal” to my list of “Things To Do Today”. Lulu needs to be fed, cleaned and cleaned up after, needs help going to the bathroom, given medication, etc… It’s like having an old smelly relative that requires round-the-clock-care move in with us.

For the past six weeks I’ve been Jepetto-ing this dog around the backyard on a sling like a marionette…which isn’t good for a 39yr old man suffering from sciatica and an inferiority complex. I can’t help but feel like my job is, literally, getting shittier….not to mention the fact that we could’ve bought a KIA with the money we’ve spent on this dog so far.   

But Lulu has come to mean so much to my wife and our daughter in such a short time. The look in her eyes is starting to get to me as well. It’s like she wants to tell me how much she appreciates everything I’m doing. I think she understands and is both grateful and embarrassed…if that’s possible. She’s such a good dog and as much as I hate giving her baths to clean the shit out of her fur, I am falling in love with this dog all over again… like Queen Latifah and that Scott McKnight in “Just Wright”.

Time Management: Juggling Work and Childcare

My late night schedule is working out pretty well. At the cost of going to bed with my wife, I’ve been able to take the lead on some legwork and re-package a construction debt placement proposal. Successfully managing this client is going to require some creativity in selling the developers on weekend site visits and meetings. It shouldn’t be too difficult as most of our conference calls can be scheduled during my daughter’s daytime naps. We hired a new assistant who should be able to work on this with me and fill-in when I’m “otherwise engaged”.  I’m also working with a client who can only meet on weekends (perfect!) and has a fairly large portfolio of un-leveraged properties which should make recapitalizing them require much less time than I had originally expected.  The heavy lifting required here is the creation of a global financial snapshot (which can be done at any hour) once I have all of his records. This just may work out after all. Shopping the debt piece shouldn’t take very long and can be done one phone call at a time….again during Catherine's naps.  I have a third client for whom I’m providing restaurant consulting services. We’ve already developed the concept, identified three potential sites and prepared his financials. The only things left to do now are: his operations manual, new hire orientation packets and redlining the counters to our LOIs…all of which I can do from home as well. It’s probably going to be exhausting but it is the only alternative I can think of to stave off industry irrelevance and professional atrophy in general. 

Brand Equity: My New Identity Crisis

I have a cousin who is a stay-at-home Dad. At one time, he was my sole reference for what it meant to be a stay-at-home Dad. Within the first year, he stopped shaving and got fat. He let his hair grow long and started to resemble the Trustafarians I hung out with in college. His “comfortable” clothes looked more “dirty” and “sloppy” to me and only served to strengthen my conviction “…that would never be my fate. And now I am becoming what I feared most. I’ve been letting myself go. I’m gaining weight, shaving every other day…or missing three days and then shaping my stubble into a starter beard. Then I’ll let that grow for about a week or two… until it’s a solid beard by anyone’s measure. I’ll then wear it for a another few days (to complete the illusion of intention) and then decide to shave it off or go all “Magnum P.I.” and take it off gradually…which can be pretty fun until you forget you have a 70’s mustache when you’re meeting some already skeptical stay-at-home-moms for the first time who probably think it looks more “Molester” than “Magnum”.

The irregular shaving can quickly go from bizarre fun to a pathetic attempt at masking my lack of  motivation...or perhaps telegraphing my identify crisis. I keep catching myself giving up on looking presentable and trying to look more…professional. More…employed. Regardless of the countless articles I've read that depict at-home dads as "in-vogue", I don't live in Tribecca and so in my social circles....and in my neighborhood I am a minority. I’m struggling with feeling a little inadequate, underutilized and under-valued. It's not "raised eyebrows" I'm encountering as much as an immediate dismissal from conversation or worse...snide remarks and backhanded compliments for my choice to give our daughter the parental attention that too many of recent generations are lacking.