My little bundle of boxer joy had surgery last week to remove a nasty looking cyst that looked like a gargantuan sized red pimple.
Major yukky. I know!
A biopsy was done and our vet reported the cyst was a benign thingie called a hystiocytoma. No cancer was found. ~Whew!~
This was a huge relief to me since boxers are prone to cancer.
Set the worry aside
I’ve been in a state of confusion and worry for two weeks about her health. As I told you before, Rosie is my lifeline and my bestest buddy. She helped me through a serious rough patch in my life and the thought of losing her too early to a disease like cancer sent me into a depressed spiral for close to two weeks.
I am not proud of how I reacted to her medical malady (and frankly, I scared myself about how bummed I got) but I still honor my feelings. I am now ready to set aside the worry and get back to normalcy.
Pre-surgery, B.T.S. aka “before the stink”
Smelly Dog, Smelly Dog, its not your fault
First off, Rosie hasn’t had a bath in a week. She reeks. The bandages on her leg are stinkin’, stankin and have stunken up the place. She’s doing her best doggie OCD impression as she licks, licks and licks the gauze bandages.
STOP THE MADNESS!
I know she likes licking but biting off the bandage is not an option. During the 4 minutes I left her unattended on Saturday she succeeding in removing half of the bandage but thankfully, didn’t rip out the stitches. In response to her renegade lick fest I taped and old sock to her leg.
Rosie, mid-lick, post-surgery, with sock
I must have used the dog command “leave it” a hundred times this past week.
Last night as I slept I could here her slurping, pulling and licking. I now know what Chinese water torture must be like. I kept yelling “leave it“. I pleaded with her to “stop it” and barked “you’re killing me over here!” (in a quasi Jewish accent)
It was a classic Calgon, take me away moment.
I am positive my elderly neighbor heard me freaking out through the rice paper thin town home walls. I’m surprised no one from PETA showed up on my door step this morning.
Lesson learned: You cannot rationalize with a dog, even if you use an accent!
I feel bad for her
The poor thing hasn’t played all week. We haven’t taken our long walks. We haven’t had any run-run or jump-jump sessions. There’s been no playing or sniffing on other puppies.
Rosie jumping for a stick, pre-surgery!
The Elizabethan cone doesn’t work. She kept getting out of it. Smart dog or stupid owner? I dunno. I even tried to coat the old sock on her leg with lemon juice hoping she would STOP LICKING.
It didn’t work. She seems to LOVE lemon juice. DOH!
I’ve been with her almost 24/7 since the surgery date save a few hours Friday (I was so thankful to have the opportunity to shower and socialize with adults). I’ve been watching her every move like a hawk since last Tuesday. I am absolutely stir crazy.
Popping out of my Lucky Jeans
Aside from not being able to walk my normal 2 mile route each morning and 2 mile route each evening with Rosie, in the last few weeks I took up the old bad habit of stress eating. This mainly consisted of late night carb loading and wine drinking (I even drank wine at breakfast Saturday morning).
Let me also confess that I gobbled down my share of cookies, apple crisp (slathered with butter – thanks Lauren), chocolate covered espresso beans, Rice Krispy treats and some other corn syrup chocolate bar with a name I can’t recall (it was a little hard, but I committed to eat the whole thing anyway).
Jean shrinking gremlin
I’d like to think some stranger entered my house, washed my jeans on hot and dried them on high for two hours but I’ve been home the whole damn time. No jean shrinking gremlin entered my home. I gained weight. Oink, oink and major oinkness. Maybe my friend, ex-friend was right when she called me a pig? Um, nah!
Note: I now feel pretty unlucky in my Lucky Brand jeans.
Rosie’s put on a few pounds too. I did what every Italian mother does when her child (insert dog) is limping and re-cooperating – I fed her too much.
- Need a treat?
- How about a bribe to stop licking?
- How about an empathy peanut butter bone?
I cannot WAIT for the stitches to come out. Rosie and I are both cutting back on calories starting NOW and we’re going to be walking, running (her, not me) and working on reducing the flabbage we both gained this past week.
Christa and Rosie, signing off…