Rough Day, Good Day

Oh hell, this has been a hard week already. Iona is home and sleeping next to me on the couch, but she looks like someone else’s dog. One back leg is shaved from the nuclear scan a couple weeks back, and the second was shaved today for the IV. One of her front legs is currently covered with a pink pain patch and I am certain it is bald underneath. But her chest! Oh, it is so hard to look at her, as she is shaved and stitched from chin to chest. I told my dad that she and he look alike now. You would think that she had also had heart surgery, as the incision is so large.

Seriously though, I just don’t care. The tumor is out. Gone. No longer in our dog.

I came home tonight with her and I was just exhausted. The Veterinary Specialty Hospital (VSH) is a wonderful place, but it is devastating to spend any amount of time there. In the 45 minutes that I was there tonight I saw a greyhound getting chemo, a dog rushed into triage for eating chocolate and another that was in a car accident. The worst, by all things mentionable, were the two couples that came in to collect the remains of their pets. One woman held it together so well until she saw the doctor. As soon as he came out she burst into tears and simply couldn’t stop. I actually had to turn away. As i told my friend Amy, this whole experience has turned me into an emotional retard. Talk about a dog and I will burst into tears. I am lame.

I will post pictures of her when I don’t feel as guilty. She looks a tad bionic at the moment. The pathetic drugged up bionic dog.

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