I had a bit of an adventure today. I went home to walk dogs over lunch and discovered this:
That’s not Josey’s blood; she’s just there for scale. That’s Biggie’s blood, because she popped out a stitch. Based on the location of the spill, I’m guessing she popped a stitch while barking out the window at something. Like an elderly person pushing a baby carriage with a dog tethered to it. Just guessing.
So I hustled her back to the vet, where they kindly repaired the stitch and delivered the lab results for Biggie’s tumor. It’s a Grade II mast cell tumor, with clean surgical margins. So while the grade is higher, and so more likely to suggest a possibility of metastasis, the clean margins means they got it all. No further treatment. We’ll just keep a close eye on any future lumps and bumps, and do close examination of her lymph nodes at her annual checkup in July.
Blurter apparently still reads this blog on occasion, as he contacted me about Biggie’s surgery. The one thing I’ve been nagging him about for ages is sending me Biggie’s baby pictures. Now that she’s my dog, I think I should have some. He sent this one:
That’s Biggie with her sister Chloe (on the right). I think they must be 3 or 4 months old here, riding in a motorcycle sidecar. I only met Chloe the one time, because she died of a heart attack at only 2. Bigs still gives me that mule look sometimes.