Yesterday was a rough one for our puppy.
We took her to the vet on Saturday for a check up, and to inquire about having her teeth cleaned. We knew that there would probably be a few other minor things that we would also need to consider, and so we had set aside some money so that we would be prepared to take care of our girl. When we got to the vet, some of our suspicions were confirmed and a few others were brought to our attention.
In the last year or so, we have noticed a skin tag sprouting from her side and a small lump growing on her back. We have been a bit concerned about them, so that was one of the things that we brought up and asked about the possibility of having them both removed. The Vet agreed with us that it would be easier to do everything all at one time, while she was under anesthesia for the teeth cleaning, than having her go through two separate procedures with anesthesia both times. The other things that the Vet addressed, that would also need to be taken care of while she was under were a broken tooth that would need extracting, and some overgrowth of her gums that would need to be lasered off. Apparently this is common in Boxers.
Yesterday was the day she went in to have all of these things taken care of. Brett did the dirty work and dropped her off in the morning while I was at work. I knew that I would have fallen apart if I had been there, because of the fact that I am an emotional basket case who always sees the worst in any situation. He is my hero. He even took her to Petsmart and bought her a new toy to take with her to keep her company while she was there. I still ended up crying like a baby from work when he sent me a picture of her in the car on the way there. Just the thought of her being scared to be there alone with strangers made me sad.
I left work early so that we'd both be able to go pick her up together after she was done. When I walked in the door, and she wasn't there to greet me, I nearly lost my shit all over again. That is one of the highlights of my day. I can't imagine how sad life must be for people without dogs.
We finally got the call that we could come pick her up, but the girl told us that the Vet wanted to discuss her blood work before we could take her home. It turned out to be fine, just a small matter of needing to lower the amount of protein in her diet, but I was worried the whole way there to face the impending doom of being told that there was something seriously wrong with her.
(remember, I always expect the worst from situations) When they finally brought her out to us, she seemed a lot happier than I would have expected her to be, and her nubbin
(that's what we call her tail, or lack thereof) even wiggled a bit. The spot where they removed the lump from her back had been dramatically shaven to give them room to work, and now looks like this:
When we finally got her home, she was still a little loopy from all of the drugs and in pain. My heart was broken. She couldn't fall asleep, so she just laid on the couch whining. We did our best to comfort her, but nothing seemed to help.
This morning Brett says that she seems much happier which, in turn, makes me much happier. Hopefully this will be the last of her surgical adventures, but at least now she will have a cool scar to show off.