White Dog whispered, "She is looking for the morning treats that go with her medications." Like every morning I was holding Nilla in my arms. Normally, she gets cuddles, her meds, and some bites of turkey. This morning she was fasting and heading off to see Dr. Julia to have the growth on her leg removed--so there were no meds and she was fasting.
I kissed her a million times; the White Dog Army nuzzled their good thoughts and wishes...and then she and Steve headed out. The rest of us stayed behind to fret and watch the clock.
The surgery would be easy Dr. Julia told us last week when we were in; just a local and quick close. She was confident the growth was just a growth and not something sinister; of course she would take a closer look during the procedure. We were not so much worried about the surgery as poor Nilla's displacement from her routine and how it would affect her dementia/fear.
We talked to Dr. Julia mid afternoon. Nilla was out of surgery; she had given light sedation just to calm our girl and the surgery was over lightning quick. As she expected there was no cause to send out the growth for biopsy; it was clear and she had cleaning removed it all. Nilla was sleeping.
"I want to followup in a week, continue her antibiotics that she is already on, and watch so she doesn't bother the sutures. If she does she will need a donut. And she will definitely need extra treats when she gets home. Expect she will be drowsy probably all night. Steve can pick her up after five."
Nilla walked in with Steve and immediately went about proving Dr. Julia wrong...except about needing extra treats. But then she demanded to go outside and spend time wandering about on the deck while dinner was prepared. She ate every crumb of her meal. She had bright alert eyes as I held her to check the vet's work and to give her meds. She seemed VERY grateful when Steve removed the bandage around the point on her legs where the IV had been inserted. ALL of the WDA had to check out both the fabric and the place on her leg.
The worst is the shaving; an Eskie just looks seriously harmed when you shave off large portions on floof. But the wound already seemed less threatening and Nilla was not interested in fussing with the work. She is sleeping now, on her mat on the sun porch...the excitement of the day finally caught up.
It feels good, White Dog said, that we are all home now...together and safe. I lift her into my lap and look around the office at the rest of the Army and smile. "Yes, Little White Dog of My Heart, it certainly does."