A dog sleeps beside me. I met her last week. As it turns out, she snores. Mightily. Until, this morning, she also possessed 4 cancerous tumors. There is no rational part of me that thinks bringing a tumor laden canine home from an out of state shelter was the right thing to do. Here she is anyway.
So far, we've inadvertently violated all of the Dr's orders for limited activity. She refuses to lie quietly. She clamored up the stairs when she thought I wasn't coming back fast enough. She jumped off the couch when I carried her to lay beside DS.
"Crate her," the cheery vet tech suggested as I settled the bill. Confidently nodding, I exited. Naively, I overestimated her desire to rest quietly. In under 5 minutes, her lower jaw was stuck in the door. Need I tell you that restriction isn't even listed on the post op?
This morning, I went back for sedatives. A friend has suggested perhaps I might make better use of them than the dog.
No idea what this will bring forth. Things being how they so often are, this was the dog my DD swore was the dog for her while I rooted for a tiny, smidge of a thing. She's barely walked her upon our arrival. Instead, it is I who swoons for a beagle.
Who knew?
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