Valentine's Day Sucks
… so says the card that Bruce gave me today. At least its homemade, though not by him since he bought it at an art/library fundraiser the night I was hanging out with Julie and pals. He left it on my dresser this morning but I was in such a hurry I grabbed it on the way out the door with the plan to open it on our lunch date at Katie's. But by then, exchanging cards was an afterthought.
As his father's legal guardian, he has to appear in court once a year to prove responsibility so he just went ahead and took the whole day off. It's a good thing, too, because when he got home it was apparent that something was very wrong with Greta. He rushed her to the vet and long story short, an x-ray revealed that she has a giant tumor on her spleen. We won't know until surgery tomorrow whether its benign or malignant. If it's the latter, we pretty much have to be prepared to say goodbye right then. If it's benign and there are no complications, she could go on to live normal happy life for however long she has left. We're hoping for the best because it's too difficult to contemplate otherwise. She could stay at the vets overnight but I'd rather have her home with us instead of alone and scared in a cage. Dr. Roberts said he'd do the same thing in our place.
We finally had our lunch and although it was good, I hardly tasted my chicken gyro. I gave Bruce the DVD of Bob Dylan's Don't Look Back since it's something we both can share together. He wrote in his anti-valentine's day card to me that the best part of the day was sharing the space heater and pouring each other coffee first thing this morning because "that stuff counts more than any junk that they shill on tv" and basically, that is what real love is all about.
In a bit of bad timing, Sandy is spending the night and is due over soon. I just feel bad because we aren't going to get to spend as much time together as I would have liked. Greta is currently sleeping on her favorite corner of the dining room rug until about 10 or 11pm when her internal clock will probably tell her it's time to move to the pet bed in the basement. She's adopted my schedule. Bruce is already asleep on a cot next to it waiting for her. I just hope that this doesn't turn out to be her last night with us. If you think of it, cross your fingers and/or say a prayer for the little Goat.
As his father's legal guardian, he has to appear in court once a year to prove responsibility so he just went ahead and took the whole day off. It's a good thing, too, because when he got home it was apparent that something was very wrong with Greta. He rushed her to the vet and long story short, an x-ray revealed that she has a giant tumor on her spleen. We won't know until surgery tomorrow whether its benign or malignant. If it's the latter, we pretty much have to be prepared to say goodbye right then. If it's benign and there are no complications, she could go on to live normal happy life for however long she has left. We're hoping for the best because it's too difficult to contemplate otherwise. She could stay at the vets overnight but I'd rather have her home with us instead of alone and scared in a cage. Dr. Roberts said he'd do the same thing in our place.
We finally had our lunch and although it was good, I hardly tasted my chicken gyro. I gave Bruce the DVD of Bob Dylan's Don't Look Back since it's something we both can share together. He wrote in his anti-valentine's day card to me that the best part of the day was sharing the space heater and pouring each other coffee first thing this morning because "that stuff counts more than any junk that they shill on tv" and basically, that is what real love is all about.
In a bit of bad timing, Sandy is spending the night and is due over soon. I just feel bad because we aren't going to get to spend as much time together as I would have liked. Greta is currently sleeping on her favorite corner of the dining room rug until about 10 or 11pm when her internal clock will probably tell her it's time to move to the pet bed in the basement. She's adopted my schedule. Bruce is already asleep on a cot next to it waiting for her. I just hope that this doesn't turn out to be her last night with us. If you think of it, cross your fingers and/or say a prayer for the little Goat.