Foxtail Summer

Despite my best efforts, the day came when Kafka got a foxtail embedded between his toes. I had been warned by everyone of the chain of problems associated with this event, in fact, I had started him on daily checks as soon as he was old enough to go to a park. But foxtail checks were never his favorite activity. As with most grooming tasks, he merely tolerated my scrutiny. Up until May, the barbs had been a healthy size and easy to see, but with summer I started finding a much smaller variety. I figured his toes acted like a sieve, collecting not one or two but up to ten or twelve of the tiny spears. We had a post-park routine where he would not go in the house until I had successfully removed every tick, foxtail, and burr off his body. So I felt confident. That is, until we started preparations to move to a new house, and our routine went down the toilet.

About three days later, Kafka sat down at the entrance of his favorite park. He would not move, so I decided to check and found a tiny red bump between his front toes. We turned around while I watched, and on the way to the car I noticed the slightest limp. I had read that his called for a vet visit, but I was hesitant given the size of the bump. I made him stand in warm water, hoping that the tiny seed would come out on his own (this shows how little I knew!). Eventually I made it to the vet, where they shaved the furnishings on the affected paw. The entire paw was swollen, just beyond the tiny red bump that was the entry point. I had not seen how bad it was. To be precise, I had not checked well enough and felt awful. As Dr. Moll gave him a sedative, I was told to pick him up in the late afternoon, since Kafka was going to need surgery to remove whatever was traveling up his tissue.

Nearly four hundred dollars later, my partner Sarah watched how they carefully bandaged his two-inch incision. They gave her a paper bag with the offending foxtails, and precise instructions as to what was supposed to take place in the following two weeks. No baths or water play. No rough games or jumping. The bandage was to stay put for the next seven days. He was going to take antibiotic three times a day, and something for the pain morning and night. Most importantly, he was supposed to leave the bandage alone! The green wrap went all the way to his knee, and had a purple heart drawn with permanent marker. It was so cute that I posted a picture of it on Facebook. Everybody wished him well, but no one warned us of what would come next.