Samantha the Wonder Dog is getting old - she's about 15. And in excellent health, although slowing down a bit, which is fine by me because so am I.
A few years ago, her vet told us he was mildly concerned about her liver enzymes. "Slightly elevated," he said. "Let's repeat the test in a few months and see what's going on."
Six months later there was no change so the vet recommended keeping an eye on it but not worrying. Again a year later. Again a year later.
But this year, the liver enzymes were higher than they had been. "Could be a tumor," the vet said. "Could be a blockage. The only way to tell is a sonogram."
Wayne dropped her off on Thursday morning and we worried all day. Samantha has been to the vet quite a bit, but this was different. Frantically worried. What if something was wrong? What if she was missing us and didn't understand what was going on?
When the vet called at 2:00, I was in a state of panic. "She's fine," he reassured me. "No tumor, no blockage. Healthy liver. You can come pick her up."
I raced to the office. Probably shouldn't admit how recklessly I was driving, anticipating that poor Samantha was scared without me. But when they brought her out, she gave me a little nuzzle and then went about sniffing the waiting room and making friends with the other patients as if I had been there all along.
And here's our well-loved pooch sleeping on her favorite blanket, showing off her shaved tummy :)