My schmoopy is having surgery on Friday. This will be our first big procedure without our original vet, and I'm scared shitless about it. Moo is about thirteen, going on fourteen, and he's developing fatty tumors. One of them is under his front leg and it's pretty darn big, so we finally opted to have it removed. Hopefully, they'll get the other ones that are on him as well. He's got one or two others I think. He's also getting his teeth cleaned as well. I took him to have his blood checked last night to make sure everything was a-okay for surgery. His liver enzymes are elevated. Not what I wanted to hear, but it's not bad enough that they won't do surgery. They are just going to give him subcutaneous fluids during surgery to try and keep his liver from going completely bonkers from the anesthesia. It was like pulling teeth to get any information out of these people. urgh. They treat me so well when it comes to my hamsters, but with dogs it seems to be a bit of a different story. ARGH.

Our old vet was AMAZING. When he sent out a postcard saying he was retiring, I got really upset. These people have watched me grow up, literally. It was a husband and wife. He was the vet, she was the secretary. They treated my aunt and uncle's dog also. Their dog was their BABY. I mean, they literally treated this dog like royalty. They had so much faith in this vet that the hour long car trip it took to reach their office from their house didn't mean a thing. He was extremely thorough and very good at explaining everything to his clients. He listened to you, and he knew us by name. We'd chat about everything when we went in. I even got to do a job shadowing with him one day. They treated our pets for 13 years. It was harsh to lose him this late in our dogs lives.

His surgeries were an event. They had to be scheduled a few weeks in advance, that way he could get a cycle of antibiodics into the animal to prevent infection, and they were continued afterwards. He had this whole set up going, and it was wonderful.

These new people let me pick the day of the surgery, didn't need to see him before hand and were more than willing to run his blood tests THAT MORNING. NO!! Urgh, where's the prep work for this?! I dont' want you cutting into my Maxie moo moo without so much as a look at what you're doing! God, and the girl who took his blood thought we were NEUTERING him. I nearly got up and walked out right then.

I just want this to go okay. And I'm nervous about his levels. The liver is rather important, so it needs to function properly dammit. We're doing another blood test in a month to see if they are still elevated.
I'm doubly anxious because I won't be able to run this show. The dogs are MY thing. I take care of them. But I won't be able to drop him off or pick them up. I've given them my cell number so they will call me, and I've got the ok from my boss to keep it on and in my pocket on friday (we're not allowed to have them on during work). She's also giving me an extra half hour on my lunch so I can run up there and get the run down from the vet. Work till six then run off to rehearsal. I've already warned my parents that he's going to have to go outside quite a bit because of the fluids. Our old vet used them no matter what on a senior dog, so I've gone through the routine with them before. He's also not going to be able to jump and his mouth is going to be sore. I watch for these things, they aren't so good about noticing things like that.

I already had a discussion about the lampshade, what they call an e-collar, for him. Maxwell would literally not be able to function if he had to wear one. He's the biggest chicken on the face of the earth, but he braves up when it comes time to. He scared off a guy who tried to break into the house while I was home alone. I had never heard him sound so large or so fierce, he even scared me. He's never shown that sort of behavior since. Seriously, this dog is the friendliest, sweetest, most wonderful thing on the face of the earth. He's scared of just about everything that moves, but that's part of what makes him who he is. He gives kisses on command, but only on your nose, because that's where kisses go! He talks to you, he saves baby animals and fish. He's never once harmed one of the fish that he's caught after it's jumped out of the pond. He's got such a soft mouth. Even when we play fight, he is extra careful to never ever bite down. The tennis ball is his best friend, and he will sleep with it in his mouth if it goes missing for a few days. He smiles all the time. He's such a good dog.

This better go well or I will have to make heads roll, then find our old vet and beg him to come out of retirement.