How do you tell a dog that he is going to have surgery? King is going to be nine years old on May 1. You would never know it. The girls look at him when he walks by. People stop their cars in the middle of the street and ask what kind of dog he is.
The groomer found a lump on his chest and the vet confirmed it was going to have to be removed. Soon. It’s a lipoma. I have never heard of one of those. I quickly ‘Googled’ it. It’s a fatty tumor and normally not dangerous. Of course, his is dangerous. It’s large, somewhere between a good-sized orange and a small cantaloupe. It’s on his chest and near the pit of his leg. It could make it difficult for him to breathe.
He doesn’t notice it at all. I only adopted him last year and have never owned an 85-pound dog before so I missed it. Now I’m trying to prepare for the surgery. It’s open, not laparoscopic. He’s going to be out cold. The vet is going to cut him open. When he wakes up, he is going to have a drain. I am figuring out now where he is going to sleep when I bring him home that afternoon. He won’t be able to get up my inside stairs the first or second day after surgery, I imagine. I definitely can’t carry him up a flight of stairs. I’m not even sure how I will get him out of my car the day of surgery if he is still groggy.
He looks at me with such trusting and innocent eyes. I wonder what his eyes will be like after the surgery, when he wakes up in pain. I think I will run out and get some Campbell’s chicken soup. When my last dog had Rocky Mountain spotted fever, that was the only thing she would eat for a few days. Of course I added boiled chicken breasts and some white rice.
King is so sweet. I’m still trying to prepare him for the surgery.