Not a good sign

If nothing else, all this enforced idleness is making me post more often, just out of sheer unadulterated boredom. Of course, since I have even less of interest to say than usual, that’s maybe not so much a plus.

I fear my beloved pooch may have a terminal problem. I can palpate a plum-sized lump where her liver is, and it is not loose. Generally, the loose ones (that you can scoot around) are stuff like fatty cysts. Attached ones. . . eeehhhhh, usually pretty serious. This would go a long way toward explaining some of her intermittent digestive disasters, too—the ones not related to having found a nice juicy rotten fish or pleasing pile of goose poop. Like today’s, since she hasn’t been out of the back yard for three weeks now.

However, after having the surgery to remove her toe-cum-cancerous-tumor, I’m not inclined to do anything about it. You can’t explain surgery to a dog. My friend Kreespy went into debt to the tune of $25,000 (no joke) to try to save her dog a few years ago. The poor dog was sick and miserable (from the chemotherapy, with chronic, pretty much uncontrollable nausea and diarrhea) for about six months. . . and she died three months after end of treatment, anyway. If Bluedog is on her way out, I’d rather give her as good a last inning as I can than stretch out her time to satisfy my wishes to have her around.

Posted by wordsmith

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I’m off to the vet, so we’ll find out soon, I guess. !

I’d believe just about anything when it comes to people and dogs. My friend’s dog had a tumor like that on his chest, and they shipped him off to MO for chemo, and went into debt to do so. Happily Tucker is doing great six months out, but he was a pretty sad dog for a while.
I hope it isn’t a cancer tumor. 🙁

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