She broke her right humerus (that's the upper bone, above the elbow). She did it standing in the living room!
I had just gotten home from work and was unloading groceries when I heard her scream. I ran back in and found her standing in the middle of the living room on three legs, dangling the injured leg.
I hustled Mr Separation Anxiety (aka Sam) into the back seat, backed the car out of the carport and turned it so I'd have more room to get her in, left the passenger door open, then went in and carried her out to the car. She sat in the front seat all the way to the emergency room. She couldn't figure out how to lie down, and every time her weight shifted onto the injured leg she screamed again.
Now, greyhounds are healthy, athletic dogs. They don't break their legs doing nothing! And I've been hanging out with greyhound owners long enough to know that many greys succumb to osteosarcoma--which gets diagnosed after a sudden, freakishly broken leg. So I was already a basket case when I got to the hospital--and from more than just having her screaming in my ear. (It's about a 7-mile trip.)
But the x-rays don't show any signs of cancer--no dark specks on the film, no jaggedness to the break. It's a nice (but nasty) break at a sharp angle (like this: "/"). She's doped and immobilized at the hospital, and Sam and I are back home. The break can't just be splinted; she'll need surgery, and I'm supposed to have a consultation with the surgeon on Thursday. (At least I was already scheduled to be off work Thursday.)
I have veterinary insurance, although I don't know how much of tonight's $697 vet bill will be covered. I refuse to think about the surgeon's bill at this point.