Adorable Increases by One-Third
Molly's doing very well. She's refusing to eat her dog food, so we're giving her whatever she will eat, namely: peanut butter sandwiches, chicken soup, chili, biscuits with honey and cinnamon rolls. To be fair, if I'd had a leg lopped off, there's no way you'd be handing me a bowl of dried corn and beef nuggets; I'd be eating cake all the way.
Since dogs don't experience the 'emotional' loss of a limb like humans do, she hasn't even been moping or feeling sorry for herself--she gets up and down, walks, hops, pees, deals. Which is good, because if she'd had a hard time with it I'd feel terrible about calling her Peg, Eileen, Long John, Stumps or Lord Horatio Nelson. Not that she doesn't express sarcasm perfectly through those big brown eyes, but that hasn't shut me up, because I am human, and I'm dealing with the emotional loss of limb very badly indeed.
Molly is now on Dogbook, and she can be reached through my Facebook page. Yes, I am now one of those people I make fun of.
The biopsy comes back in two weeks. Please cross your fingers and/or appeal to your chosen deity that cancer has been left on the curb in a bad neighborhood.