Forget that a cancerous tumor the size of a large grape was removed from her hind quarters. That it was big enough to cause her trouble going to bathroom. Forget that the vet’s incision to remove it wrapped around the base of her tail like a crescent moon or that she had a long line of blue stitches back there looking like miniature train tracks.
Forget that she was supposed to be in pretty good discomfort — miserable even — for days. That she might lose her appetite. That she might have accidents all through the house. Struggle to go to the bathroom. Wouldn’t be able to take anything but short walks and would need to spend the better part of two weeks pretty much resting and not moving around.
Forget all of that because … well … that’s just not my dog. Turns out there was only thing that bothered her after surgery to remove her tumor: the cone.
Yes, the dreaded plastic cone that dogs must wear to keep them from licking their wounds and meticulously untying their stitches, which my critter nearly managed to do on the final day when we let her get some unsupervised cone-free time.
It was pretty invasive surgery — the tumor was in the most uninviting of locations, cozied up to her buttocks — but she weathered it and recovered wonderfully from it, especially for a dog that’s older than 14 years and really should be sitting in a rocker somewhere learning how to play pinnacle.
Only, that’s not Chase’s style. She’s not one to slow down or let a little invasive surgery change her ways.
But the cone … well, there’s nothing so humiliating, nothing quite as embarrassing and nothing more mortifying to a dog than that. The only misery my dog has ever known has come at the hands of that curved, confining plastic.
That and the failure of not being able to remove her pill from a glob of cheese we would wrap it in like a burrito.
Other than that, it was remarkable how well she bounced back. How little it slowed her down. And she was certainly supposed to slow down!
We were given very explicit instructions: Walks were only to use the bathroom and should be no longer than a couple minutes. She should be on the leash even in the yard to keep her from running or doing anything that might tear her stitches. She should spend most of the day resting. HAHAHAHA! Have you never met the Chase dog!?!
My daughter explained to me the doctor’s explicit orders: “Anything that’s fun she’s not allowed to do. No running. No jumping. And definitely no chasing cats. Nothing fun!”
But Thompson’s aren’t known for their convalescing, and Chase is by far the worst of us. She broke the cat rule within five minutes of being home. As she bounded down the steps, I ran after her yelling, “You lunatic … your stitches!”
When she finally came back, I could tell exactly what she was thinking by the look on her face: “This cone’s gotta’ go, Mac. Too much drag.”
She had just been through surgery! She should have been groggy and weak. Moaning and whimpering as she limped through the house. Ringing a little bell for service and back rubs and sponge baths and little bits of food carefully placed between her weak, trembling lips.
Not complaining that the cone was cramping her style.
But that’s just the difference between humans and dogs. A couple years back when I had my leg stitched up from a surfing injury, I laid around on the sofa for days, unable to do much of anything. It healed horribly, hurt tremendously, and I complained so much that my family nearly traded me on eBay for some slightly worn sheets. It was one of the most miserable times of my life.
This dog, on the other hand, seemed unfazed by it all. Maybe her two remaining brain cells don’t have the computing power to register pain, or she can conveniently block it out. Anyway you look at it, dog’s are pretty amazing.
Well, all accept for that dang cone. She couldn’t put that out of her mind, and spent the two weeks crashing into furniture and deliberately scraping it across the backs of our legs. I think it was her way of saying, “if I’m gonna’ be miserable, then you’re gonna’ be miserable.”
“… and I’m not gonna’ play any pinnacle!”