"Hi, Kelly. You're here to for Vanna," said Tina glancing up from her front desk position at Sterner's Vet Clinic.
"Yep, ready to take my sweet girl home," I responded.
"Robin will bring her right out. She did great today," reassured Tina.
I heard her before I saw her; I recognized her raspy breathing as Robin led her into the lobby. I was grateful for the relief that swept over me when I saw her. However that relief vanished as quickly as it appear when I saw the incision. An evil, jagged marked stretched vertical up her side. It was as if that incision nailed me in the chest. I was not prepared for what I saw.
Immediately, Vanna staggered towards me. Immediately, I dropped to my knees and took her into my embrace.
"It's okay, sweet," I whispered into her mane. Incentively, I began to gently stroke ears. It's her favorite form of contact. A soft crease of her royal velvet, black ears immediately easies her anxious. Those classic Labrador ears.
I could no longer restrain the tears. My heart filled with regret. Did I make the right choice to have the tumor removed? Cancer, I HATE you!
Tina offered me a Klneex. Then I realized they both, Tina and Robin, were offering me comforting words. "She is a great dog. So cooperative and eager," said Robin.
Tina agreed, "She is a tough cookie. I real trooper. Dr. Milsap will be out to speak with you in just a minute. She is completing the discharge paperwork."
I turned my attention back to Vanna. "Ready to go home, Vanna Girl. Come on, sweetie, let's go home." I took the leash and led her out of the clinic. Tina began to check in the next patience. "So, you brought in Ellie today for a broken toenail."
A broken toenail? I shouted in my head. Really, a broken toenail? Life is truly all about perspective.