Chaser made it through surgery OK today. No complications. The vet called at 5 p.m. to say they had her sitting up, and she didn't seem to be in much pain. Of course, that's probably due to the pain meds. Hah!
Gabe did remarkably well this morning (even asking to take a picture with Chaser and her polar bear before heading to the vet's office). Then he had a moment of weakness in the car. As I was trying to wrestle Chaser from the floorboards after she'd dove there when she got wind of our destination, Gabe cried out, "If they take off her leg, won't that kill her??!" Then he proceeded with the crocodile tears.
So there I was. Manhandling 100 pounds of stubborn golden retriever out of the car while attempting to explain to a five-year-old that one of God's creatures can survive peachy keen without all its limbs.
It's reason #1 for a person to begin drinking hard liquor before 9 a.m.
After putting Gabe's fears to rest, I headed inside with Chaser. I sat down to wait for the vet, and Chaser immediately tried to jump on my lap. For the record, goldens do NOT make good lap dogs. But I understood her fear. The last time she was there, they knocked her out for X-rays.
I'm thinking she's a little slow to forgive and forget.
So it was with a heavy heart - but with confidence - I handed the lead over to our wonderful vet. We look forward to bringing our golden girl home soon. Once she recovers from the surgery, we know she'll be pain-free and feeling better than she has in several weeks.