Of course, I did turn the big 1-0 last September. I celebrated by marking a few new spots in the yard and howling at the neighbor's new dog. Have to show him who's boss, after all.
Other than a birthday and another new Nylabone for Christmas (when will my humans wise up and get me an electric ear scratcher?), it's been a pretty uneventful life since I last visited. Until recently, that is.
My male human, well-meaning as he is (he's only human, after all), decided I needed some medical attention for some new growth on my left rear leg. My feeling has always been if it ain't broke, chew it, but he apparently isn't familiar with that philosophy.
So my human took me to the vet, and the vet decided the growth should grow no more and should be removed. I didn't mind too much. They gave me some nice drugs and some good ear scratches.
I just don't think it's me. |
I guess it's to keep me from licking where the vet did his thing, but what good's a sore if a dog can't lick it? Plus, I can't get to any other spots. What's up with that?
Hopefully, I won't have to wear this thing too much longer. After all, somewhere there's a lamp going around topless. And if you've even seen a lamp go topless, you know it's not a pretty sight.
Bark. Bark. Howl.
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