she’s really out of our price range

Twelve days ago Jude found a growth near the base of Slinkee’s tail.  It felt about three inches

long and an inch wide.  We wanted to get it checked immediately but our regular veterinarian

was booked up.

We found another vet who could do it the next day.  And he did:

Slinkee was trying to minimize herself out of embarrassment.  Here’s the seat of the problem:

We were told to restrict her activity, especially her tail wagging. Wish us luck. It’s a free agent

that starts thumping at the slightest hint of adventure.  If you heard it hitting the furniture or

floor in another room, you might think that we have a poltergeist. She knocks remote controls

off the TV tray with it.

We did our best to keep her from licking the stitches, which were the type that dissolve in

the skin.  However, I left her alone for a few minutes Sunday without her muzzle on and

came back to find the incision gaping open.

You know the Rolling Stones’ legendary lips logo, with presumably Mick Jagger’s huge tongue

leaping to freedom?  It looked like that.  There was a sizeable puddle of blood on the floor.  I

called Jude and — after a scramble to find our emergency bandages — she soon had Her Nibs

patched up.  Jude believes that a hematoma blew the stitches out.

The vet sewed Slinkee up again with sturdier stitching. We’re watching her even more closely.

Problem is, I can’t give her total attention as I try to finish the greenhouse makeover before

the rains return, which is typically in a week or so.

Yesterday I took her with me to the lumber yard.  As I kept one arm on a stack of 12′ boards

resting on the dashboard and my good eye on the road, she worked about a half-inch of the

sutures loose.  I covered the opening with a band-aid and duct tape.  Jude did it right as soon

as she got home.

With the two surgeries and related expenses, we’ve spent about $1300 on her.  A friend of

ours just bought a purebred puppy for $1500.  So I’m wondering if Slinkee can now qualify

for a pedigree.  Having her wreak havoc at the Westminster Kennel Club could be as funny

as the film Best in Show.

The vet called Wednesday with test results on the growth.  It was a mast cell tumour, which

has three grades.  Grade I has the lowest potential for metastasis, Grade III the highest.

Slinkee’s was a I, which he explained in lay terms as “a good thing”.  He also said that he felt

he got all of it.

We’re immensely relieved.  In no way were we prepared to part with such an ebullient spirit.

She’s our daily reminder to stay in the moment.  She constantly celebrates life, her fatal at-

traction to chickens the sole exemption.  That aside, she’s a bargain at $1300.