I've spent most of the weekend watching TV (the Democratic Party delegate debate), reading (a new Harlan Coben mystery), catching up on writing book reviews (boy, was I behind), and playing with all the dogs (the granddogs spent Friday and Saturday nights with us). Now it's Sunday night and I'm doing last-minute laundry that I could have done Friday night.
I'm trying to keep my mind preoccupied with trivial stuff so I won't worry about my best boy, Butch. We visited the vet again Saturday morning, following up after he completed four weeks of antibiotics to treat his anal sac infection. The infection seems to have cleared up, and Butch doesn't have his head up under his tail nearly so often, so I know he's more comfortable than he was. That's the good news.
The bad news is that the vet says there's a mass in his rectal area that seems to involve more than swollen anal sacs. She thinks he has a tumor. She actually said the "C-word." I'll take him in Tuesday for a biopsy, which means putting him under anesthesia again. Considering the problems he had last time, that's a scary enough concept without even thinking about the possible results of the biopsy.
So, I won't let myself think about it yet. At least not much. He's in good spirits and doesn't seem to be in any pain, and I owe it to him to keep my attitude as positive as his is.
I'll keep you posted.