So I'm sitting here on the kitchen floor next to Ozzy who looks like he's been hit by a train. Two massive rows of stitches--both with these horrible plastic drain tubes sticking out--one of those awful clown collars, and most pitiful whimper you've EVER heard in your in your life. This is one unhappy dog--unhappy, but alive. I had a real bad feeling about this surgery, so I'm very glad that he made it through. Now I get to spend the next 12 hours sitting next to him on the floor and petting his paw which seems to be the only thing that lessens the whimpering. THANK GOD the baby is down for a nap. And Max is on his way home so that we can take turns caring for the baby and comforting the dog.
Really, this is god awful. Anyone who's met Ozzy knows that he has a very special set of vocal cords, and the whimpering is just heart breaking. I know it was a really small tumor, easily removed and he should make a full recovery, he'll even be a lot better by tomorrow morning, but right now it just seems so wrong to put him through this.