Friday, April 03, 2009




Phew! Lily's breath stinks. She gives me kisses. I hold my breath until she is done. It is time to get her to the vets. My rat terrier needs her teeth cleaned. Instead of taking her to the vet 2 blocks from my house, I make an appointment with the SPCA vet...several towns over. They gave me a discount for adopting a rescue dog. At least, they did when Lily needed her cancer operation. The SPCA paid for half the cost of the operation.




The appointment is made. The nurse tells me to bring in a stool sample. Lily and I walk around the block. Nothing happens. I feed her some more. Nothing happens. We drive to the Vet's office. I report that I don't have a stool sample. Lily knows this place. She starts to shake and whine. This is the place where the people do things to her. Things she would rather not happen to her.




Up on the table....dog is shaking....The vet sticks his gloved hand, with paper towel in ready, and scoops out a stool sample. Lily gets blood drawn. Lily gets kennel cough vaccine blown into her nose, Lily gets her Rabies shot. Lily gets her mouth opened and examined. Yup. She needs her teeth cleaned. Can she also have her nails trimmed? They're pretty long. Yes. Can do.




I point out the scar on my dog's back. Could Lily have some plastic surgery to remove that scar? People think she has mange and are hesitant to pet her. I also think that the spot may turn into skin cancer some day, as there is no fur on that spot to protect her from the sun's rays. The doctor says that her skin is loose enough that He can cut out the spot.




Poor dog that was proded from one end to the other is let down on the floor. Lily is visably upset at the exam. Lily gives her opinion on all this, by pooping on the floor.




The surgical proceedures are scheduled for the next day. I am to bring in a urine sample this time. This is a comedy, trying to follow a dog around the back yard, carrying a cup to catch her urine. Cup doesn't work. Lily wonders what am I doing back there? Imspiration: back in the house, I fashion a low and narrow collection scoop from aluminum foil...just the right size for Lily. Lily squats. I slip the scoop under her bottom and Lily hits the target. Hurray!




Back at the vets. She knows. She starts shaking. She poops on his floor again. the results of the blood test are in. There are no mast cells in my dog's blood. Lily is cured of cancer, thank God. I leave my shaking dog in the good care of the nurse. All the proceedures will be done that day with Lily sedated.




At 3PM that same day, I called the vet hospital. Lily did fine. She is waking up from the anaesthetic. Come and get her. At the office, there is my dog. She has short and neat nails. Her breath is sweet. Across her back are a row of staples. The scar is gone.




The vet comes out to greet me. We go over Lily's blood work. All is fine except her glucose level is very low. Am I missing something from her diet? The vet says no. She may have a tumor on her pancreas. If her glucose gets any lower, she will have convulsions and may die. He recommends a test that can be done in the office. I am reeling from paying two vet bills that total about one thousand dollars. (No insurance ) However, she is my little dog and I have a responsibility to her. In return I have her love and loyalty. I get the better part of the bargain.




Lily and I will be back in two weeks to get her stitches out...and for one more pancreas test. The vet had better have some paper towels ready for the floor.




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