The Tumor

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I have news for you. I’m going to have yet another surgery! Yes! Can you believe that? Crazy!

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It just so happens that I have a small bump on my hind leg. It’s nothing, just a tiny bump. Nevertheless it has to be removed.

So they say.

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This is Dr C, she works with Dr L. (Who, as you might recall, abandoned me without fair warning, and went to California for a year!)

Dr C says my bump is “a Tumor”, and has a weird name “Soft Tissue Sarcoma”. Apparently it’s a form of something called Cancer, whatever that is.

Surgery is scheduled in a week. I’m only a little nervous, this is not my first rodeo! After the ligament ordeal, the bump is probably a walk through the park.

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Only, I don’t understand why Veronica is looking so sad? Dr C said it’s a minor intervention. No need to look that upset.

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She should be happy, I’m finally allowed off the leash! First time in 10 weeks. I still have to be super careful though.

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I’m even allowed to run a little. So why is Veronica so gloomy? Is she sick?

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I try to cheer her up with a small, special, prank of mine. That usually brings out a reaction between laughs and exasperation.

But no, she vaguely smiles and doesn’t even pick up the paper? What’s wrong with her?

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Tomorrow is the day. I’ll probably have to wear that awful torture cone again? Great!! Well, as they say here: “Jamais deux sans trois”.

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Dennis comes with us. Look at his face, oh c’mon guys, enough with the tragic looks.

Dr C said I’ll be up and about in no time. (We’ll see about that though) Tumor gone. Et voila. Problem solved.

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Here the routine is always the same. The weighing of the dog. I now weigh 30.8 kg, pretty perfect with my 56 cm, I think.

(I’m not chubby! I have big muscles, even Dr L says so)

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I put on my best “Zen Boxer” attitude…inside my stomach is full of worried butterflies!

“A walk through the park”?…hmm… On second thought more like “Crawling through a dark scary forest”!

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Dr C tells me I’m a very good girl. Duh, we all know that. “Felicia this is an easy intervention”

P L E A S E: Let me be the judge of “easy” or otherwise!

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This IS easy! I’m feeling a little tired but otherwise not bad. This is nothing like the ligament surgery.

And NO CONE! Yes!

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Only one, super embarrassing fact; they shaved my butt! Just look how ugly it is.

What if we walk through the neighbourhood?? Polka might see me. Not to mention the little “full-of-himself Jack Russell” down the road, he’ll have a field day.

And I’ll have a huge ugly scar!

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Wait a minute…a scar…hmmm…but that can actually be kind of cool! I have two scars now. I’ll be like “Indiana Jones”!

Incidentally, we love those movies, that is Veronica and I. She thinks he’s very handsome, I couldn’t agree more.

Her sister, SPS, is with her on that one. (And she is a Veterinarian behaviourist, remember!!)

(Dennis’s opinion is unknown)

Yeah! I’ll be “The Indiana Jones of Dogs” Ha! Beware of “The-Adventurous-Badass-Scarred-Boxer”.

Yeah, that’ll be me!

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To my great relief, no neighbourhood walk!

We head into the woods. Weather is lovely, flowers everywhere and I’m feeling great. The stitches don’t bother me at all. (No glue here)

We’re in for a huge surprise next day:

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SNOW!!! And loads of it. Dennis decides we should take a walk up on the fields. “It will be good for building her muscles”.

Only, Dennis did NOT listen to Veronica’s advice to wear proper snow shoes… After 5 minutes he had to return and wait in the car, feet soaked.

Veronica, very gracefully, did not say “I told you so”. (Maybe only once…or twice!)

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What is it with men? Can’t they listen to friendly advice??? Oh no!

Don’t get me started on asking for directions…I could write a book on that subject, illustrated with numerous examples.

What’s wrong with them??? My theory: they hate to admit they can be wrong, that’ll make them appear weak…so they think!! Pathetic!

It’s simple: listen to the women, they know it all. And they’re right!

As for Dennis: This is NOT California!

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Tomorrow we’re going back to see Dr C to remove the stitches. I hope it’s not going to hurt.

Even the ” Adventurous-Badass-Scarred-Boxer”, is allowed to feel pain! Right?

What? A wimp? No, no, don’t you listen to Dennis, “A wimp”, ridiculous! (This coming from the guy wearing sneakers in wet snow!)

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Stitches are gone! Didn’t feel a thing! There’s a whole lot of talking. I only half listen, frankly my bump is gone, what do I care.

Veronica has her “Concerned-serious” expression on.

I vaguely pick up a few words; “Sarcoma grade two”, “regular controls”, “6 weeks”…yeah, yeah, whatever!

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Back home Veronica hugs me, “Allt kommer att bli bra, min älskade lilla Felicia” (“Everything will be fine my darling little Felicia”).

She’s all emotional.

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I’m the “Adventurous-Badass-Scarred-Boxer”, remember? I’ll be fine…only…please, no more surgeries.

 

My thanks go to Dr Delphine Carquillat for doing her best to free my Felicia from her Sarcoma.

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