...and the lump was benign.

 

 

You know you weren't going to get off that easily. Gizmo is 12 and hasn't always been the peach he is today. When I was at Veazie Vet, I saw him because he was limping. At 11 months old, he was boisterous and quite noticeably limping. As I examined him and took Xrays I found he had a 'growing pain' called panosteitis.

 

As I explained the treatment plan--a few weeks of antiinflammatories and rest and he'd be fine, the owner asked me to euthanize Gizmo.

 

"Perhaps I didn't explain it right, this will go away on its own with rest and medication."

 

"But he is such a badly behaved dog," the owner went on to tell me. "We can hardly take him out of his crate because he is so destructive."

I looked at Gizmo. He looked back as it to say "I have no idea what he is talking about"

 

I told the owner that I could not put a dog to sleep for being a boisterous puppy. He countered that he would have to bring him home and shoot him.

 

I offered to find him a home and waive the bill if he gave him up that moment. He agreed.

 

Now, before I tell you what happened next, I have to tell you that before this email list my biggest problem was finding homes for animals that needed a second chance. My friends began to quickly change the subject when I told them the stories....

 

"So I did surgery on this cat the other day and the people never came to pick him up"

 

or...

 

" I have this adorable three legged dog that needs a home"

 

I couldn't think of anyone who would take the "well I took this dog from a guy who was going to shoot him...by the way, he said he was really badly behaved."

 

So I kept him.

 

A few days after he came home with me, we had a big party for one of the vets who was leaving. Since I knew that about 20 people were coming and Gizmo wasn't great with people, I put him in my second floor bedroom with a few chewtoys. I was merrily grilling and listening to Magic Carpet Ride when my neighbor came over to me.

 

"I don't know what is going on upstairs, but it looked like something is loose in there and is doing major damage." I walked upstairs and opened the door to Gizmo, laying in the middle of the bed, looking very proud.

 

I surveyed the rest of the room and saw what my neighbor had been concerned about. The blinds were hanging and broken. The comforter had a big hole and fiberfill was everywhere. My daughter had a tube of pink toothpaste that he had found and splattered everywhere.

 

...and in the middle of it all Gizmo sat.

 

He lived through that episode and settled down gradually through the years. He tipped us over in a canoe. He learned how to counter surf. He ran away whenever possible. He would chase the kids in the house and careen off the couch, ripping the material until I had to buy a cover or lose the stuffing.

 

But he also learned how to spoon. He sniffs my pants every night when I get home as if to experience each patient I saw for the day. He and my cat Crystal groom each other frequently. When we go to bed he looks soulfully at Mary as if to say...'Put down the book my darling, its time to snuggle."

 

So can you see why he is my favorite?

 

But why is Mark telling me this out of the blue?

Because week before last we found a lump on his tail that looked suspiciously like a type of skin cancer (Mast cell tumor). I scheduled him for surgery last Tuesday.

 

On Sunday I found myself with an unusual event. I had a day off with nothing planned. Mary was working and the weather was gorgeous. I decided to go to one of my favorite places on the planet...Belfast.

 

As many of you know, Belfast is on the coast of Maine and has a very cool vibe. Besides having a very funky food coop, it also has lapping waves, eclectic shops and fresh ocean air. As I headed out the door I looked at Gizmo...."want to go for a ride?"

 

He looked at the other dogs and laughed. He ran to get his leash.

 

With his gray hair shedding all over my car, we drove with the windows open and his nose eagerly sniffing the air. We crossed the Penobscot Narrows Bridge and he started getting excited. When we got to Belfast we went to the park and down in the tidal pools. Two kids came up and asked if they could pet him. As he accepted their touch I remembered how boisterous he was with Becca and Daniel. I'm not sure if he ever stopped to be touched by them.

 

He has gotten better with age.

 

The reason I tell you this is because somewhere between my apprehension of the mass on his tail and an opportunity that I might have passed up to have a great day with my dog, I remembered that its easy to take a relationship for granted. He's been there through so many changes...the starting of the clinic, a new marriage, kids growing up, stressful days, days on the ocean...

He stayed at home and kept guard while I ran off spaying cats.

He makes sure my cat is pretty.

 

I also recognized that every time I anesthetize one of your pets, you are probably freaking out. I'm used to helping people through the anxiety around surgery...I'm glad I had the staff to help talk me down from the ledge when it was Gizzy.

 

So he did fine, and the mass was totally benign.

 

and I had a reminder before it was too late that a relationship with a pet is truly a gift.

 

...that guy that was going to shoot him missed out on a great relationship, but I bet his couch is still in one piece.