A Charm

Third time is a charm. At least that's what I'm counting on as this is Black Dog's third big adventure.

It was a on a Sunday night that Black Dog ate a pound of Christmas
chocolate.  Three days hence (we are reading Treasure Island and words
like hence are seeping in to my brain), she found herself preparing
for surgery.  I called the regular vet to make sure her chocolate
adventure wouldn't preclude surgery.

"Oh my gosh! Haven't you had enough already?" proclaimed the girl who
answered the phone.

Yes, yes I had, I assured her.

Black Dog was going to have surgery.  We had found an odd growth on
her front leg.  The vet examined it and in addition to that growth,
she found two masses in her mammary glands.

I can honestly say that Sadie seemed undaunted at the prospect of
another medical procedure. The humans went into what is known in our
house as push down mode. Push the feelings down and stare blankly
forward as the ridiculous becomes reality.  I believe this is standard
operating procedure for parents of teenagers.

Black dog sailed through surgery and did not have to suffer the
indignity of the cone of shame.  After ten days and only two interim
trips to check staples that had come out, Sadie had three new scars to
add to her adventures.

One week after surgery we got the news that most of what came out of
Sadie was benign but there were some cancer cells in one of the tissue
samples. The vet was very positive about her prognosis and optimistic
that they got it all.

For anyone who has survived cancer, had a grandfather, grandmother,
parent, sibling, best friend diagnosed, you hear everything the doctor
says up until the word cancer comes out of their mouth and then it's
"blah, blah, blah."

Sadie is doing great and we are so grateful this black, cuddle bug has come to rescue us. What I have learned in this brief glimmer of a life is that it is a
spectacular, quick ride with lots of ups and downs.  The dogs that
rescue us are shooting stars lighting the way.

As I write, Black Dog is leaning against my leg, dreaming of a walk in
the bright, biting Iowa morning; Vegas has just come in for a warm up
from her morning of squirrel chasing.

All is well. And cold.