Bonnie is home and recovering. They gave me pain meds and antibiotics to give to her. She pooped this morning and that made me very happy. I was clapping and "Good Girling" her about poop because this is where we are at now. Fuck you, Cancer. The vet who did the surgery was a blunt fellow and even though the pathology test hasn't come back yet, he is sure it's malignant. He saw other clots when he took the spleen out that were not in the spleen and too dangerous to remove. Before the surgery, she was her Bonnie self, just a bit skinnier. I just want a chance to get her back to that, please let me have that time.
Her message to the world has always been love and friendship. She is just the kindest thing. When Tiny Clyde pulls on her ears some mornings to get her to play, she either does when she is in the mood or she comes over to me and sits near me so I can save her. She never bites his mean little dick ass. I tell her, "don't let him get away with that, sic 'em!" and she just looks up with her sweet face and lays down. My girl is a lover not a fighter.