PUPPY DOG TAILS

Rupert is very sad today because he had an operation on his tail. The vet anesthetized him and shaved off his fur and removed a growth. It's very icky to have your tail operated on because there's not much tissue or skin there, just a lot of bone and nerves, and the healing can take awhile.

He looked very demoralized when I left him at the hospital. He did not want to stay. When I came to pick him up, he was so happy to see me. He shoved his snout between my knees and wagged his tail, even though it obviously caused him pain to move it. On the ride home he stuck his big lion's head out the window and closed his eyes and let the cold wind blow through his mane. Every minute or so he'd look at me and smile, like "I'm so glad you remembered to come get me. Who knows what those sadists would have done to me next!"

The vet — a teenaged boy who works there now — just called and said it wasn't a cyst, as he initially thought, or cancerous, as he slightly feared, but was a follicular tumor, which is benign.

Mabel was nervous all day, wondering where he was — worried that he was doing something fun without her, and acting accordingly petty.

The vet sent him home with a ton of antibiotics and a giant funnel collar, which I guess is for me to wear so I won't bother him with too many kisses.

Last night he lay down on the pillows by my head and didn't budge all night. Usually he sleeps at the end of the bed to watch over me, or by the door. But last night it was my turn to watch over him.