In five (sure to be sleepless) hours, I will drop off my beloved little bat-frog-pig-dog for a triple set of surgeries. She is getting spayed and while they do that, they're fixing her nares (nostrils) and soft palate, too. I know these are routine procedures for bulldogs, but I am anxious about all the things that could go wrong.
What if there's a problem with anesthesia because of her flat face?
What if I picked the wrong hospital?
What if the doctor isn't experienced with brachycephalic dogs?
What if they forget to give her her eye medicine four times a day?
and worst of all:
What if they lose her (I know of another frenchie who died during this operation)?
Tomorow I will take her to the hospital, spend 20 minutes in a coonsultation with the vet, then leave before they slice and dice her. Then she will stay there so they can manage her pain in the afternoon/keep her overnight for observation.
The prospect of an entire day without my polar bear, my animated marshmallow, my obstinate little tom boy (who'd rather fight than snuggle) fills me with a bizarre mixture of dread and sadness. I know, people who are not obsessed with dogs will read all of this and think I'm crazy. Well, you are technically correct. I am crazy. But I also love this puppy and worry about her constantly. I wanted a French bulldog for five years before they put her in my arms on January 9, 2013. I waited for four years to get one from an ethical breeder who only has a handful of puppies a year. She is very precious to me. I know, if I waited for her for years, I can wait a day. If only it were "just" a day. Sure, it will be 24 hours, but those hours will be filled with medical instruments, pain, and risk. And besides, this is my diary. I get to write about exactly what I'm feeling, with no obligation to make it interesting or palatable. HERstory is where I write for others. Here? I write for myself.
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