On Trepidation and Second Guessing
Right now, at this moment, my life with my two dogs is pretty special. Their relationship with each other as well as with me is wonderful. They are both healthy and live life vigorously and zealously.
Or so it would seem.
Casey Mae, my eight year old Toller and heart dog, has a rapidly growing lump in one of her lung lobes. It was first seen on an x-ray about eight months ago. A follow up film in late November showed it had almost tripled in size. A needle aspiration was not helpful and so surgery to remove that lung lobe is scheduled for next week.
When she came home after being sedated, Jet, my 70 pound Flat Coated Retriever, was unintentionally rough with her. He just couldn’t understand why she couldn’t play with him. They had been apart for the day, which is a rare occasion. And as I watched them interact, I realized that Jet would need to be out of the house while Casey Mae recovered.
And that made me sad.
Jet follows me from room to room in my tiny house. He does this, even though he could easily see and/or hear me from any room. He supervises me making my bed in the morning and undoing it at night. He leans into me as I sit in my chair in the living room. He tries to come in the bathroom with me. He is my shadow.
And I am sending him away. I have never felt good about leaving my pampered dogs in kennels. So not what they are used to. But this kennel has “Uncle Tim,” our field trainer, and someone Jet dearly loves. And Uncle Tim is going to work with him and give him plenty of exercise – something I would not be able to do if he were here. He is going to have a great time. I hope that he is so tired that all he wants to do is sleep in his kennel when he is in there. I hope he does not feel loneliness.
I look at Casey Mae and her spunk and I cannot believe I have made the choice to have her cut open. She will have a drain tube in – maybe for as long as a week. Her coat will be shaved. And she will have one less lung lobe. They tell me recovery from this procedure is generally quick and uncomplicated. Also, that she will be able to run and play again just like before.
In three weeks, we will all be together again. And I worry that it will be different from the way it is now. That Casey won’t want to play with Jet the way they play now. That Jet will behave differently. That the perfection we have achieved will be gone.
It is not in my nature to worry. I think that I worry now, because it feels like doing nothing would be just fine. At least that’s what my heart tells me. But my head tells me this needs to be done. So I will carry on and have faith that I have made the right decision – one that will help my heart dog to live a long and perfect life. And that once this is over, our little family will resume its special existence.