Regular readers of this blog may recall that Arpad (pronounced Arpod), the Great Pyrenees security chief of Goat Rope Farm, hit a rough spell late this summer when he had a disagreement with a motor vehicle. His tibia was broken. Surgery was had but for some reason, the plates didn't hold and the bone broke again, almost coming through the skin.
It was bad. There followed another surgery which involved metal bars going clear through his leg, which led my daughter to call him Franken-Pod. This meant the boy had to be pretty immobile and stay indoors for the first time in his life.
Then there were days when the bars came loose and his leg smelled like a deer carcass. Like I said, it was bad. It looked like he might lose a leg. Or that we might lose a Pod.
Through it all though, he was the most amazingly patient patient, taking it all in stride.
I'm pleased to say that didn't happen. He's now back outside and on duty, taking walks when he chooses, barking at the villains, and surveying his domain, which in his mind is everything he surveys.
The Pod abides.