Nanna's passing brought with it the end of fetching, the end of stick chasing, the end of the snoring dog. There is no more squirrel chasing, no heavy dog head, pressing against your knee and drooling while you sit on the couch, just waiting for you to glance down and catch a glimpse of the quick and low tail wag, and finally turn off the TV so we can go in the back yard and play.
And, so I thought, the end the of lumps. WRONG.
Recently, three suspicious lumps have popped up on Ozzy's not entirely lump-free body. In his 11 years, he's had two lumps. One was surgically removed, and the other was deemed benign and continues to chill on his ribcage. So I guess, historically, he's got a 50/50 chance that the vet will simply poke him with a needle and hand us a bill, and we won't have to discuss surgery or treatment options. We'll see in a few hours.