Ask me how happy I am

I'm not having any fun at all! This has been awful! No good dog like me should have to endure this!

It all started a while back when Mom noticed a bump on my left hind leg. It was tiny and Mom and Dad told me not to worry about it. But then it got bigger and Mom started to take pictures of my ass.... er...my leg. Then Dad got sick and Mom forgot about my bump. After Dad left us, Mom zeroed in on me like an A10 Warthog flying a mission. I knew that I was in trouble. 

Yesterday, we got up early and Mom suckered me by offering to take me for a ride. Yeah, Mom, I'll remember it for a long time. Early morning rides with no mention of the dump? I'll pass. She left me at the vet's office and the vet did horrible, terrible, hurtful things to me! 

I was sooooo glad to see Mom when she came to retrieve me that I forgave her everything. Home never looked so good! I forgot how bad my leg hurt and how wimpy I felt and ran inside and jumped right up on the bed. It hurt a bit, but my spot is my spot is my spot. I needed my spot. I didn't need that pain pill Mom gave me.

Never trust a vet. That pill messed with my mind. I cried and panted and shook for hours, and Mom held me the entire time. I even threw up once and she didn't scold me at all. Mom promised she wouldn't give me those pills again. I'll get baby aspirin even if they might not work as good for pain. At least they will not make me see horrible visions that aren't real. 

Mom says the worst is over now. My breathing has cleared up and I'm not wheezing. Mom said I had to clear the gas from my lungs. Ya think? Mom also says she won't do this to me again unless there is absolutely no other choice. 

I know Mom had to do it. She only wants what is best for me. She cried, too, and I'm sorry for that since Dad's not here. Dad would have made it all better.

It's time for me to be strong for Mom and get over it. My leg will heal, and in a couple of days everything will be fine. My surgery will be a thing of the past and we can get on with summer. I might even have a scar, not that anyone except me and Mom will know it's there. 

And I know Mom won't forget her promise to me. 

Greenbrier Smokey Deuce, Deuce's Day, A10 warthog, black Labrador Retriever, dog surgery, good dogs, bad vets, country lifestyle, rural living, dog with a blog

Mom's muttering to herself again

Don't get me wrong. I like it when Mom talks to me, especially when she uses a lot of words I know. I get the gist of it and it's okay because I'm almost never in trouble when she talks to me. I'm Deuce. I'm a good dog. But Mom isn't talking - she's muttering.

Her favorite expression these days is something like "what the f*ck now!" She mutters that every time I bark to let her know a critter is in the yard, which is multiple times a day. Yesterday she even told me to shut up! I was surprised at that but I shouldn't have been. She was napping and if I'd have been paying proper attention I would have realized that. But a stray cat in MY yard? No way can I keep quiet about that! 

I suspect Mom will be muttering about all kinds of things. She's working in her garden space again. It's time to fill the buckets and growbags and it's hard work. If she does like she did last year, she won't start actually talking to me until the plants are growing. That's when she relaxes in the garden chair and I can have a lie-down beside her. Right now, I have to keep out of her way as I keep an eye on her. I'm moving around a lot. 

Being in Mom's garden with her will be pretty cool. We'll have lots of talks, but some of them might be a little sad. Dad sat in the garden with us last summer. We'll miss him doing that. 

Maybe it's okay if Mom mutters a little bit. 

Deuce's Day, black Labrador Retriever, dogs, country lifestyle, rural living, muttering, gardens, cats, life after loss, napping

We're sad

My Dad isn't coming home. He couldn't stay with us any longer. He was just too sick and he had to go ahead of us. I'm doing my best to console Mom, but it's hard because I can't talk. All I can do is stick close to her side so she can touch me. That makes me feel good, too. 

It's really hard on Mom. Dogs understand more than people think, and we know that one day we'll be back together. I'll probably cross the bridge before Mom, which will be really, really hard but I can't help it. It's the way of things. 

Dad taught me and Mom a lot of stuff. We remember all of it, or at least I do. I guess Mom knows even more because she knew him for a long time before I was born. Dad was always kind to me. He gave me biscuits when I hadn't done a thing to earn one. I got them just for being me and that's a special kind of love. 

I'll miss Dad every day until I see him again, but I have an important job now. It's up to me to take care of Mom. I can do it because Dad taught me how. 

I'll never forget you, Daddy.