You are my pupshine, my beagle pupshine

My goal yesterday evening was to come home and finish one of the many reviews I’ve started writing, as well as all my convention posts I’ve been slowly putting together for some time now.  Needless to say that has not happened.  I had a lot on my mind yesterday to say the least.  Stuff I’ve carried over from the weekend that I need to let go of, a cousin I have in my heart right now because while I don’t understand her pain I hate that she has to endure such, and I have worried about Oreo, one of my dogs, since Friday.  My dad told me on Thursday he didn’t eat a lot, which I thought was weird because on Wednesday he ate fine.
He’s slowly morphed into my little ‘ol pup.

On Friday, my normally excitable dog only came out of his doghouse because I came into the backyard to feed him and his brother.  And even then he didn’t want to eat.  I think he might have had a few bites and that was it.  So I tried to give him treats.  He ate those so I gave him some more.  I wanted him to have something on his stomach but all he really wanted was me.  This prompted me to call my dad and I told him that I thought something was wrong with Oreo.  On Saturday we even drove with him in the car.  I held him on the way to a place we thought was open, and my dad held him on the way back.  I was afraid to move him because of a sound he made with my dad.
Fresh off some dog biscuits.

Sunday we still couldn’t get him to eat a lot and by Monday Cocomo was visibly guarding Oreo.  My dad said that Cocomo began pacing and barking at him as he picked up Oreo to take him to the vet.  At a little after 2:30 I got a phone call from my dad.  That’s when I learned that Oreo might have cancer and he had a mass.  The hardness we felt wasn’t his ribs from the weight he’s loss, he was already a smaller dog so the weight loss is painfully noticeable, but a mass.  The doctor explained if the mass was wrapped around his spleen it could be removed because dogs like human don’t need their spleen.  But that it was either a surgery or to put him down and I lost it.
Puppy sneak attack.

I lost it in public for the first time in a long time.  I went into the public bathroom in my building and I bawled.  I couldn’t stop crying as I listened to my dad make the decision for Oreo to have surgery.  He told me if he had a chance he was going to give it to him.  As grateful as I was to hear that I couldn’t stop crying.  The tears kept coming to the point that a counselor down the hall actually told me to come talk to her.  At the time I couldn’t explain to her that I just found out all this information.  And while I think everyone could do with some therapy of sorts, I’m not sure this particular breakdown is the reason to go sit on the couch just yet.
He gives the best kisses.

Just when I thought I could go back into the office, I had to go back into the bathroom and cry some more.  I wanted to be presentable by the time I walked back through the door.  As soon as my co-worker asked me what my dad said I told her I couldn’t talk about it.  I knew if I did the tears would come again.  I waited a good hour before I typed the words to her because I knew I wouldn’t be able to say them out loud.  I typed them to her at the time they took my dog to surgery.  I felt tears in my eyes and went back to work hoping it would take my mind off of the possibility the tumor inside my dog had wrapped around his liver.
Facebook just had to remind me of their brotherly love this morning.

For the record it did not and suddenly I hated being right.  I didn’t want my gut to be right in this case.  I wanted Oreo to be the happy go lucky puppy he has always been.  I wanted to be imagining these awful symptoms and the fact that he was possibly trying to say goodbye to me this weekend.  I’m not sure how many more years this will keep him with us, but I’m glad I have more time with him because when his time comes I can’t imagine not being there for him.


I say this because I was ready to leave work this afternoon if needed.  All I know is that should the time come I have to let him go, I refuse for him to be alone.  I know it will kill a part of me to watch him go, but he won’t be alone.  He’ll be with Cocomo if he naturally goes or he’ll be with me, but not alone.  Thankfully the surgery went well.  We don’t know if the tumor was cancerous, or if he still has cancer cells, but they were able to get the entire 2.4 pound tumor, but had to take his spleen with it, but he’s still here.  Sure he will be on the mend, but soon he will be my little Houdini/Howler dog once more.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: