Derek’s Broken Girls

Sigh, ya know, I just don’t understand it. 

We’re relatively healthy people.

We eat lots of spinach, so I mean really.

Poor, Poor the Kona.

So, the Kona has this weird growth on her “rear-left-paw” as Derek explains it to the vet. Which sounds so technical for some reason. I told him he better take her in, our friends the Green’s dog just passed from a growth on her leg, so I was not taking any chances. He books an appt. and takes Kona into work  (a hilarious post for later times) to take her into the vet later that day.

Conversation we had after.

D: “How much do you love the Kona?”

H: “WHY, WHAT IS WRONG WITH HER?!”

D: “Vet says she has a tumor and he needs to cut it off before it gets too big. Will cost $500.”

Silence

H: “Are you lying to me?”

D: “No”

H: “Crap. Are you joking?”

D: “No. I scheduled it for Thursday. Should we do it?”

I say world. Really.

In the meanwhile, through a supersonic speed technology, I have told my sister Hali, who not five seconds later, my other sister Hannah is calling about The Kona.  

Great, now my sister’s are besides themselves.  Hannah cries.  

Lady at work: “Well, if you aren’t going to have kids perhaps you should buy an insurance policy for your dog.” Some serious contemplation happened then.

Lady at work: “Ya know, my chocolate lab had the same thing. But I didn’t get it removed, and I had to put her down.” OMGOSH, try and make me feel better a little more, please.

Guy at work: “see, I had six kids, so I put all my money into my kids.”

H at work: “I know, so I’ve now become one of those dog people I make fun of.”

(I mean, really, who blogs about their dogs in such detail…sheesh.)

Hours later, I get home, Kona greets me with her poor paw all bandaged up in a neon green wrap. My mom comes walking out…I’m tenderly petting my Kona, and mom asks what all this paper work is. There is a black and white pamphlet with dogs on it saying in bold letters “PREPARING YOUR ANIMAL FOR SURGERY.” 

H: Choking sounds commencing “Kona . . . . .h. . . as. . . . a . .. .Tumor….blaaaahhahaha.”

Yes it really was that disgusting. I find it extremely stupid to cry, perhaps because I do it so much and it makes me SO MAD, and even madder because I’m crying about my dogs leg!

Poor, Poor Kona.

  This was taken before she went to the doctor, after we so lovingly wrapped her foot in a sock and then a plastic bag so it wouldn't get wet.  This was BEFORE it was a Tumor.