Lucas had surgery to remove what the vet thought was a hemangioma (a small, benign growth) on Thursday. The pathology came back as an angiokeratoma, which I guess is a little rarer, but still benign, thank goodness. The spot was on his chest, in between his arms. It’s not a spot he can lick, so he’s free from wearing the cone this time around, but he’s unable to play or run for 10 days. Yeesh! We’ll see how that goes… for him and for us!
Also, the boys hate (HATE) fireworks. With each pop, their hackles go up as they jump around, woofing in circles, dashing from one end of the house to another. So while we hoped you all would have a very happy, very enjoyable Fourth, we planned to hide in our house, shades draw, with TV turned way up to hopefully drown out the horror that is this holiday! However, turned out we didn’t need to panic because it poured buckets the whole day and through the night. While we secretly celebrated the fact that there would be no fireworks, little did we know that our town postponed all festivities until last night! So around 9:30 PM on a Sunday night, the fireworks started. Poor Lucas: his nostrils flared, his hackles rose, he barked his little head off. Luckily for all our sanity, the madness was over by 10:45, so we were able to calm him down and get to bed!
All in all, this has been a rough few days for Lucas. He goes to have his stitches checked on Thursday, but then he gets to go visit Otto for a full day of fun (assuming the stitches are able to come out, of course)!
I hate to tell you this, but it’s too late for me to cancel the fireworks celebration I have scheduled to welcome the boys back to Maryland. Oops, my bad!
aw poo – i hated the fireworksies too.. they’s scarys..
do you play wiffs bigger dogs? Where do you lives at doggy..
Bell girl
Moxie — our nearly 5 year old Pitt/Lab mix — is deathly afraid of fireworks and thunderstorms. He even starts to cower if the wind picks up and it gets dark… he knows there’s a storm coming. I can sympathize!
When he gets all worked up from storms he’ll either pace in nervous circles around whatever room we’re in, or try to hide under an end table or the coffee table; and the one time we’ve had an accident inside was the first time he heard fireworks (that we know of — he came from the humane society at around 6 months old).
Here’s a pic: http://www.flickr.com/photos/tuttletree/2174246970/in/set-72157600356392786/