The Reprieve
In my last post, I mentioned that I had scheduled an amputation for my dog. For this morning. Well, it's not happening. Not yet, anyhow. We just couldn't go through with it!
Everyone I talk to reassures me that dogs are incredibly resilient and adaptable, and that he'd adjust without all the psychological trauma that humans would have over losing a limb. He'd move his other paw more to the center, take a little while to figure it out, and move on. Just like he doesn't even notice the giant growth on his leg. It's just there (or in the case of the amputation, just isn't). There's nothing to cry about or mourn over.
So on the one hand, we could really learn a lot from dogs. They adapt, heck, they thrive. Hell, they eat vomit and feces voluntarily. They go beyond "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade." They apparently go so far as to believe "If life gives you lemons, make lemon-ice, expel it, and enjoy it again!" Dogs: Life's ultimate optimists!
But I digress (and disgust). The reason we decided not to go forward with the amputation was precisely because he doesn't notice it. He's not in pain, the leg is not bothering him, so removing the leg doesn't relieve him from anything except an unsightly lump that he doesn't even notice! That hardly seems fair. Sure, it's expensive to keep removing the lump again and again, but removing the leg seems a bit extreme right now. Kind of like a pre-emptive strike. Right now, at eleven-and-a-half, he can recover more easily than he would as he gets older. But it still seems too extreme.
Heck, we tried moving out to the suburbs a couple of years ago, figuring it would be easier to transition our kids to a new school before first grade and before pre-school (the start of 2 3-year cycles at their Montessori school). It was convenient and well-planned. But our hearts weren't in it, and in the end, we just couldn't do it. Things are good now. Let them be good. Enjoy them.
I don't know our long-term plans for either housing or our dog's leg. But why should I have to?
Shortly after I posted my last post, my sister was telling my dad about the scheduled amputation. Right away, he called me up to suggest various radiation treatment options for Friday, either with or without surgery to remove the lump. We owe it to Friday to at least try that first before going with an irreversible course of action. And while it will doubtlessly be pricey, that is why we earn money, right? To take care of the ones we love. For our kids we chose Ruffing. For our dog, we choose Radiation.
Everyone I talk to reassures me that dogs are incredibly resilient and adaptable, and that he'd adjust without all the psychological trauma that humans would have over losing a limb. He'd move his other paw more to the center, take a little while to figure it out, and move on. Just like he doesn't even notice the giant growth on his leg. It's just there (or in the case of the amputation, just isn't). There's nothing to cry about or mourn over.
So on the one hand, we could really learn a lot from dogs. They adapt, heck, they thrive. Hell, they eat vomit and feces voluntarily. They go beyond "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade." They apparently go so far as to believe "If life gives you lemons, make lemon-ice, expel it, and enjoy it again!" Dogs: Life's ultimate optimists!
But I digress (and disgust). The reason we decided not to go forward with the amputation was precisely because he doesn't notice it. He's not in pain, the leg is not bothering him, so removing the leg doesn't relieve him from anything except an unsightly lump that he doesn't even notice! That hardly seems fair. Sure, it's expensive to keep removing the lump again and again, but removing the leg seems a bit extreme right now. Kind of like a pre-emptive strike. Right now, at eleven-and-a-half, he can recover more easily than he would as he gets older. But it still seems too extreme.
Heck, we tried moving out to the suburbs a couple of years ago, figuring it would be easier to transition our kids to a new school before first grade and before pre-school (the start of 2 3-year cycles at their Montessori school). It was convenient and well-planned. But our hearts weren't in it, and in the end, we just couldn't do it. Things are good now. Let them be good. Enjoy them.
I don't know our long-term plans for either housing or our dog's leg. But why should I have to?
Shortly after I posted my last post, my sister was telling my dad about the scheduled amputation. Right away, he called me up to suggest various radiation treatment options for Friday, either with or without surgery to remove the lump. We owe it to Friday to at least try that first before going with an irreversible course of action. And while it will doubtlessly be pricey, that is why we earn money, right? To take care of the ones we love. For our kids we chose Ruffing. For our dog, we choose Radiation.
posted by BrainHickey | 11:07 AM
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