The last couple of weeks have been really stressful for me. My leg has been breaking for a month or two, but since I am so stoic, mommy just thought I had sprained it when I was running around the pool trying to save the people in it. I’m a little obsessive about things like that. I can’t help it. It is part of my instincts, as a Rottweiler, to protect people.
Two weeks ago we went on vacation. One day I got in the car and wouldn’t get out. When mommy finally got me out, I could only limp on 3 legs. We had all sorts of drama getting home. The car broke down in Lake City. Mommy had to lie to a hotel about my size. Then they gave us an upstairs room and mommy was afraid to say anything, since I’m twice as big as the maximum size dog that they allowed in the hotel. Mommy was very helpful with the stairs, but it still sucked. We finally got home, but after the vet had closed on Saturday. Mommy still thought that I had sprained my leg. It was Labor Day Weekend and mommy had to go to work on Tuesday, since she had been on vacation and her coworker was now on vacation. I finally went to the vet on Wednesday and the news was BAD!
My leg is broken and they think I have cancer.
So, now we need to go running to another vet who is a specialist. Did I mention that I hate getting in and out of the car? It hurts my leg.
So they poke and prod me, and take lots of x-rays. They shave my belly and do an ultrasound. The news is good. I don’t have any visible metastases in my organs, so it’s a GO for my amputation.
I’m really scared, but mommy keeps telling me that I will feel so much better a week from now. I have to believe her, because right now, I feel good. I want to run and play, but my leg hurts, they are giving me drugs that make me sleepy and dizzy, and I have to be on a leash if I’m outside. My nose is cold and wet and I am a member of the clean plate club. Everyone is treating me so nice. I’ll tell you a little secret, I was the pick of the litter and I have always been a little spoiled, but now everyone is treating me even better.
Mommy says that I will get even more attention as a TriPawd.
I can’t wait. I’m a love sponge.
Mommy refuses to believe that I have cancer.
She reads all those Hay House Books and believes in affirmations. “I am a happy, healthy TriPawd.” “I am a happy, healthy TriPawd.” “I am a happy, healthy TriPawd.” “I am a happy, healthy TriPawd.” You get the picture. Why not? Mommy says that they will amputate this leg and I will live on for quite a few more years. If my mommy says it, I have to believe it.
Peace Out for now!
I’m not the best patient. If you get too personal with me I will snarl and nip. Not something you want to see from a Rotti, but it’s what I do. So, when I wasn’t eating they called mommy to come get me. She called my favorite person, Uncle Shawn, and they came up to get me. The vet who did my surgery came highly recommended, but is like an hour drive from our apartment. On the way home we stopped to get bland ground chicken breast and white rice. Mommy cooked it up and I’ve been eating a little of it. I have to eat it so I can take my meds. I was hungrier at midnight than I was at 6. Right now I’m crying. Mommy is writing my blog. Mommy is going to come sleep on the floor of the bathroom with me in a minute.
