Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Prayers, Mojo, and Good Thoughts for Dottie
While I was carousing and being immortal with the boys over the weekend, my family had our eldest bird dog in the house. Plenty of loving and petting ensued (as it should), and they noticed the lump. It's fast growing, for sure. It was just a couple weeks ago that she was at the vet for her routine checkup. While I'm relieved we caught it quickly, I'm also alarmed by its rapid growth. My wife -- an RN who's talked me off numerous ledges throughout our marriage -- assured me that ol' Dot can lick this. Despite her confidence, the dull, acidic aluminum taste seeped into the back of my mouth -- the same one I encounter in the worst times of my life. Worry. Bad News. Sickness. Death.
So Dot goes under the knife on Wednesday. Funny how it works. A week ago, my string was as tight as it's ever been. Dottie as the wily veteran. Vegas (finally) coming into her own, and LuLu impressing.
And now this.
My first question to my wife -- as any bird dogger would ask: will she hunt this season? It starts the 15th. We've got places to go, goddammit. The vet was confident, thankfully. And, thankfully, so was my wife. So we sit. And pray. My girl might not be immortal after all.
And if she's not...