Injuries may change the way we think about ourselves, or our place in the world. But for Lucy the doggo? She's got important lessons to teach us humans about finding the joy in everyday things, how to properly rest, and being present with a sidelining injury.
With that, let's get to it.
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Sarah: How to Recover From Injury According to My Dog Lucy
This week, my dog Lucy underwent her second knee surgery. She’s no stranger to this; she had her right doggy ACL (CCL for you canine anatomy nerds out there) operated on in 2023. This week’s surgery is an unfortunate effort to make her symmetrical after tearing her left CCL a couple of months ago. This recent operation also brings the grand total of knee surgeries in our household to four.
Before I took up Nordic skiing, I played Ultimate frisbee. Being a woman and playing a field sport that relies heavily on quick changes of direction are two great ways to tear your knee ligaments (though neither is a prerequisite; I once met a guy who tore his ACL stepping off a curb to catch a bus). I tore both my ACLs playing frisbee, and had both of them reconstructed to largely overwhelming success. Knee surgery prompted me to mostly bow out of field sports and start trail running and Nordic skiing. I’m grateful every day for the surgeon and physical therapists who facilitated a life where I can still exist exuberantly in the outdoors.
Rehabbing a knee injury (or any injury) is no easy feat. Progression is seldom visible, rarely linear, and is often achingly slow. I was okay at injury rehab. I was diligent, but I didn’t internalize the meaning of ‘low-intensity exercise’ until very recently. This precipitated an annoying cycle of overworking closely followed by frustration at my lack of progress. It’s only thanks to entering the world of endurance sports that I have unlocked the ability to exercise less hard and still think of that as valuable.
Lucy is a near-model recuperator. She has exemplified behaviors that I plan on carrying forward for all future injuries. As an avowed member of the ‘if you’re not falling, you’re not learning’ school of Nordic ski learning, I am sure there will be some. Lucy’s secrets to success so far are as follows:
Rest
Lucy is part pitbull and so excels at lying on the couch in general. Post-op, she has taken the art of the snooze to new heights. She has fallen asleep sitting up. She occasionally will just look at me and (I swear) roll her eyes if I ask her to get up and go outside. She has decided to eat some of her meals while lying down. She does these things because she understands the importance of sleep and idleness in the process of healing.
Listen To Your Body
In spite of my inability to explain what happened, Lucy knows what’s going on with her knee. She is mindful of it when she lays down, and treats it delicately. Over the past two days, she has gone from not using her leg at all to tentatively touching her toes to the ground when she walks. This toe-touching is a first crucial step to building her strength back up and getting back to her true loves (which, similar to mine, are running around in the woods, or pelting next to me on a ski trail). She does not rush into running or eagerly trying to sniff Frankie the cat, her (unrequited) best friend.
Do Your PT
I cannot overstate the value of this advice from a human standpoint. Frankly, I think dogs might get by without it, but I certainly wouldn’t have. I still have some annoying bodily asymmetries, and so still do balance exercises and work on my hamstring strength at least weekly more than 8 years after my last surgery.
Lucy’s PT looks a lot like mine did immediately post-op: work on your range-of-motion, focus on going up and down stairs in a controlled manner, and use your surgical leg as much as you comfortably can when walking. For her, this will progress to finally being able to walk to the dog-friendly library branch and her favorite coffee shop where they lob Milkbones at her over the counter. And then back to the trails. She will return to what she loves. Thanks to PT, her knees will be more stable than they were before her operation.
Don't Get In Your Head
This one is hard for humans while being easy for dogs. Dogs make comparisons about things like dinner time from one day to the next. “You are two minutes late with the evening kibbles,” would be a common refrain in our house if Lucy could talk. Humans make value-based comparisons about ourselves, our progress, and our own worth based on how much we perceive we contribute to the world. It is so hard to stay out of your own head as an athlete recovering from injury. Injury changes the nature of who you are, whether in a permanent or temporary way. But those comparisons – to your past self or those around you – do not help you recover.
Find Your Joy
Important to maintaining a semblance of sanity during injury rehab is remembering that there are other fun things outside of exercise. For me this was art, and all of a sudden having many more hours to spend with friends. For Lucy this is gnawing on antlers and tearing apart stuffed toys with manic joy and focus. She walks slowly and sniffs the world diligently. She has always loved waking up and languorously stretching. She serves as a reminder that joy exists, small and big, old and new, wherever you sniff.
Sarah Davis lives with her partner, dog, and cat; and almost everyone in their household enjoys cross-country skiing. On most weekends from November-March you can find some combination of them on the ski trails outside of Seattle or in the Methow Valley. As a former Ultimate Frisbee player, Sarah finds that learning to xc ski is a good exercise in being un-serious about a serious sport instead of the other way around. When not drawing, taking care of Lucy or doing things in the PNW, you can find Sarah eating Twix or you may find her on Instagram @sarahcodavis
the closer What We're Thinking About.
That Sarah is a lovey artist and we enjoyed reading about Lucy's journey. Dogs have a unique viewpoint of the world - one that is present and focused on living without the forced expectations we humans place on ourselves. What else could we learn from our pets about mindset that might positively impact the recovery process?
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