I got the big camera out this afternoon, and since Polly was sitting in the window, she got her picture taken.
Category: Photography
Post Op Review
The vet said Frances wouldn’t eat for them this morning. That didn’t surprise me. She did the same thing when she had TTA surgery. I think the anesthesia just really knocks the wind out of their sails. My “secret weapon” is bonito flakes. You can buy them in the cat treat section of most pet supply shops. They’re meant to be sprinkled on cat food, as a treat, but I add them to warmed water. The warmth feels good and it enhances the stinky fish scent, which tempts the dog’s (or cat’s) appetite. It did the trick.
After she’d tanked up on some bonito flake-spiked water, Frances ate a full serving of food, and then she begged for my breadsticks.
That Face
She lost her ears temporarily, but they came back with her appetite. My little fruit bat has returned!
The vet was not able to get all the tumors with this surgery. Doing so would have removed too much skin, which would have stressed the sutures and risked them failing. That means she’ll have to have another surgery to get the remaining tumors. If all goes well, he wants to do that on the day she gets her sutures out.
So this ridiculous soap opera roller coaster is not over yet. Ugh. We should know on Monday what the histopathology report says, and that should help dictate what the next step is. If all the tumors that were removed are benign, then there isn’t as much of a rush to get the remaining ones. They still need to come out soon, but maybe not immediately. If any of them are malignant, then the next surgery will need to happen ASAP.
But for now, Frances is home and resting fairly comfortably.
Gonna Kill Us All
Always sleep with one eye open.
Clouds
It drizzled all day, but the sky was kind of amazing when I left work.
Frances had her surgery. It was a dramatic roller coaster of a soap opera. The pre-op x-rays showed a shadow in one of her lungs, near the heart. That had to be sent to a radiology specialist for a rush reading. Turns out it was (probably) just a blood vessel or something similar that was supposed to be there and not a tumor. Hallelujah!
Then, before starting the surgery, the vet did a more thorough examination of Frances’ undercarriage. She had more than just the two tumors I found. He said he’d try to get as many as he could in this pass (all would be ideal), but that if he removed too much tissue, the skin would be over-strained and the sutures could fail. He ended up getting all the tumors on one side, but the ones on the other side will have to wait.
Good news: No drain.
Bad news: Frances is still lumpy.
Good/bad news: We’ll know if the tumors that were removed are evil before the next surgery, which will help make the decision on how quickly that needs to be done.
In the meantime, I’m dogless for the night, which is very weird. They’ll call me in the morning to let me know when I can pick up Frances. Probably fairly early, was the vet’s best guess.
Bedonacouch Is Pit Bull Approved
Frances was a little skeptical
at first, but it didn’t take her long to decide that bedonacouch is the beat thing EVAR.
Mountain of Work
A couple of those items needed completely new records. All but a few had required at least some (and often a LOT) of editing. And that doesn’t include the stack of things that went to our NACO person to have authority work done.
If you’ve done national level enhance cataloging, you will understand that that’s a lot of books to chew through in one day.
Please file under G for “getting shit done.” I’m going home now to partake of an adult beverage.
Canal Boat Horses
Canal Boat Horses, circa 1980
When we lived in Metamora, the canal boat horse holding area was near our house. They were draft crosses, so not as huge as they could have been, but still big compared to the little toy horse I was used to riding.
Buck
Buck, my oh so creatively named buckskin Quarter Horse x Shetland Pony, circa 1982
Buck was a horrid, murderous shithead. He would blow up his stomach before you tightened up the cinch, so that five minutes into a ride the saddle would slide sideways and you’d fall off. He’d rub you off against fences and trees. His favorite trick was to find a low-hanging branch and bolt toward it, so you’d be knocked off. He also bit people, and if you weren’t careful he’d turn around and chomp on your foot while you were riding him.
He was only barely green-broke when I got him. I was nine years old and had no idea what to do with a horse. I got a quick lesson in how to put his tack and how to feed and brush him, and that was about it. I was on my own, and it was trial by fire. Parents: DO NOT DO THIS TO YOUR CHILDREN.
Bear
Bear showed up at our house and insisted he was going to live with us. About a year later, some pre-teen kids knocked on the door and claimed he was their dog, but he was having none of it, so he stayed put. I only have a couple of photos of him, and this is the clearest. He was some sort of generic farm Collie mix. Leggier than a Border Collie and without the characteristic crouch and evil eye.
Horror Vacui
My bedroom, circa 1987. Proof that nature really does abhor a vacuum.
red paper boat 