(For this page, pretend this dog is limping on three legs!)
Later that day, we had GOOD NEWS! If ever there was a time at which I was grateful for cell phones, this was it We carried it everywhere, expecting The Call - to the restaurant, out on the deck, into the bathroom . . . literally everywhere.
Although the surgery was anticipated to be concluded by 2:00 p.m., by the time we left for a cookout with Bonnie-the-Scottie and
Duchess-&-Lady-the-Airedales' DogFolks' house at 4:30, we hadn't
heard, so we didn't know if it would be a Celebratory Cookout or a Condolence Cookout. At 5:35, five minutes after our arrival, the phone rang with the good news . . .
NO amputation . . . I was fully prepared to hear that we now had a Tripod Dog, especially since the surgeon was so concerned about the rapid changes in the upper mass. This mass consisted of three encapsulated lipomas; the encapsulation indicated that they had not spread throughout the muscles. This would have been cause for amputation, since the spreading kind of lipoma just doesn't quit. The
muscles were sewn back into place and the wound was sewn together. A drain was in place to clean out the cavity left by these lipomas.
NO skin graft . . . the lower lumps, the ones we were first so concerned about and which are thought to be hemangiopericytoma, were connected, and so removed as one. There was enough skin to close the wound, so no further damage had to be wreaked on poor Misha's body to obtain skin grafts.
We breathed a sigh of relief, phoned concerned family members, and had a wonderful Celebratory Cookout.
"'Do I miss Misha?' you ask. Misha who?"
It sure was quiet around here without Misha . . . we have found that she is the Household TimeKeeper (6 a.m. - "Hey, wake up! It's time for breakfast!" 6:30 a.m. - "Hey, it's time for our veggies!" 7 a.m. - "Time for April's medicine and biscuits all around!" 4 p.m. - "Dinner time!!" 4:30 p.m. - "Veggie time!" 5 p.m. - "Time for April's medicine and biscuits all around!") . . .
. . . and the HouseHold Alarm System ("Mailman next door! BARKBARKBARKBARK." "Mailman at OUR door! BARKBARKBARKBARKBARKBARKBARKBARK!" "The hoomans are leaving! BARKBARKBARKBARK!" "The hoomans are home! BARKBARKBARKBARK!"
"They brought treats from the restaurant! BARKBARKBARKBARK!" "They
DIDN'T bring treats from the restaurant! BARKBARKBARKBARK!
BARKBARKBARKBARK!" . . . well, you get the idea . . . Now we just had to wait for Misha to HEEL, I mean, HEAL.
"Misha? Misha, where are you?"
"Misha, are you hiding on this side of the tree? How do I get *DOWN* from here??"
CONTINUE WITH MISHA'S CANCER SAGA HERE
