So Charlie came home from the hospital today, thank dog. His bum hole looks pretty normal except for the fact that it's shaved, and he seems to be in a bit of discomfort. I can always tell when he's uncomfortable because he barks a lot more when he's in pain - and today he was barking at everything and everyone.
You can tell here by the look on his face - at least I can - that he's not his normal, placid, happy self - but at least he's alive, and I'd be pretty unhappy if I'd just had my butt hole torn open so that a cancerous rectal tumour could be cut out.
This is Daisy and Charlie in the backyard tonight when I was mowing the lawn, which was about 4 days overdue, so the lawn was really long - except of course for their wrestling area - they only wrestle in one specific area of the lawn, and the grass in that area refuses to grow - you can see it very clearly delineated in the photo. It's pretty funny - at some points in the year it verges on becoming a mud pit. Sometimes I almost think I should just relent and brick the area and give up on trying to have lawn in that area - but then I figure they'll just move 12 feet over and wrestle on the grass next to the bricked area - and then the grass THERE will die - so I'd still be a lawn loser.
It's funny that in a few short days you can go from having things being completely normal to thinking that one of your family members was at death's edge - to that family member being back at home and things seeming to be normal again.
This afternoon though I was laying down and giving Charlie a good scratch and I felt a fatty lump on his belly and I thought - I hope that isn't more cancer. And I thought to myself - no, I don't think that things will ever be quite the same ever again.