A call from the vet

That's Bonnie on the left.
You can see the two huge lipomas dangling from her belly.
This picture is two years old and they've grown even larger.

Two weeks ago yesterday I took my mother to the hospital for elective surgery. She was nervous about it. I wasn’t. I was sure she’d come through fine, and she did. But that night she suffered a stroke and within 24 hours she was gone.

This morning I took our 14-year-old dachshund, Bonnie, to the veterinary hospital for elective surgery. Bonnie wasn't as nervous as she usually is when she goes to the vet. She, of course, had no idea what was going to happen. But I’m about to jump out of my skin.

Bonnie for years has been afflicted with lipomas – fatty lumps that are almost always benign  – that dangle from her underside, making it look like she’s about to give birth to a large litter of puppies. We used to have the lipomas removed as soon as they appeared until our vet explained they would almost certainly return and the surgeries were causing her needless pain. But this time, we’re going for it. Bonnie has two massive lipomas that drag on the ground, making it difficult to walk. They bleed. They itch. The vet says it’s a quality of life issue. So while it was our decision, we felt like we didn't really have a choice if we wanted her to enjoy whatever time she has left.

I’ve watched youtube videos of lipoma surgery on dogs. The lumps, once removed, look like skinless chicken breasts. There’s a lot of blood, and multiple, lengthy incisions, but the dogs whose surgeries I’ve watched have survived and recovered. Those dogs, however, were younger. I haven’t found any information about the odds for a dog her age.  

There is no comparison between losing a human you love and an animal you love. I know that. I also know there are people who are undergoing real loss right now, people in pain, people who are hungry, people who have no hope. A 14-year-old dog isn't important in the scheme of things.

But she is important to us so I'm a bundle of nerves right now. Didn’t sleep well. Can’t eat. Can’t do anything until that phone rings. I’m planning to sleep on the floor next to her bed for the next few nights to be there if she needs me.

Because, even though she’s just a little dog who has already lived a long life, she is loved way, way out of proportion to her importance on this planet and it would be painful to lose her. Especially now.  

I'll let you know how things work out.

Update

11:30 a.m.: The vet called. Bonnie made it through the surgery and he said he is pleased with how things went. There's a mini bottle of Champagne in the fridge, which we'll open once we bring her home this afternoon.