A few days ago my little dog had surgery to remove the tumour from his neck. We went this route because a scan and a couple of biopsies revealed that the cancer was contained; our very skilled vet Tim thought it well worth a shot. Poor Rodney looks as though a pirate has attacked him with a cutlass – now he’s sore, itchy, sleepy and confused. And quite possibly cancer-free.
Last night was a sleepless one as I watched him pace, keen, and scratch in great discomfort. It was hard to bear.
Today, after a steroid shot and a teensy dose of diazepam, he’s comfy and I am relieved. But at some point, the big hill will rise up to meet us and the buck stops with me. Please god, let me be strong enough to put Rodney first when the time is right. Because sometimes, actions speak louder than words.