Since several of you mentioned that this “needed” to go on the blog, I thought I’d share with you everything leading up to my visit with our vet today.
I should start by giving you the “back story”. It goes like this: Bill and I are not very handy people. My dad is handy, Bill’s dad is handy…but Bill and I, not so much. It’s like the “handy” gene just skipped right over us.
Once, when we attempted to go it on our own for a home repair, it did NOT go well. I had called my dad and told him that our kitchen disposal had stopped working. I could hear the motor TRYING to turn, but it didn’t move.
My dad, Mr. Fix-it himself, told me to take a broom handle and stick it in the drain. He said to try to turn it with the broom handle. (I should point out here that the broom handle was made of wood.)
I then decided it might help to give it a little kick start so I turned the disposal on while turning the blade with the broom handle. It was a BIG… a VERY, VERY BIG mistake. The next thing I know, wood shrapnel was flying everywhere, I was screaming “Oww, Oww, Owww” and Bill came running from another room thinking my entire hand was being eaten by the disposal.
For reasons I cannot explain, I didn’t take my hand off the broom handle to turn off the disposal. It felt (and looked) like the broom and I were in a blender being chopped up. It really kind of looked like I was being electrocuted. Bill flipped the switch off and checked to see if my hand was still attached. Upon seeing that it was, he said….”WHY on earth were you screaming “OWWW” when you weren’t hurt?” I told him very matter of factly that it was because I thought I was hurt…or was about to be anyway.
So now we have a stubby broom that makes me laugh every time I see it. Looks like a beaver got a hold of it.
After the trauma of that little “do-it-ourself” episode, we decided it would be better to hire professionals for our home repairs. And that’d be fine – if we actually needed the repairs. But for the most part, we didn’t really have to have them come.
You see, we:
*Once paid $75 for the air conditioner company to come check out our “broken” a/c only to have them tell us that we just needed to flip the breaker switch.
Lesson learned…or so we thought.
*Because a year or so later we paid another $75 for an electrician to come repair our dryer…only to tell us (AGAIN) that we just needed to flip the breaker.
*And when our disposal was making an awful noise…$60 to a plumber to walk in my house, stick his hand in the drain and pull out a nail.
So all of those experiences of paying people to do our home repairs should have prepared me for what happened this afternoon when I took our dog Looper to the vet. I was quite sure she had a very cancerous tumor on her foot. A large black bubble had been near her toenails for about a month and it looked AWFUL. Like really, really bad.
I put off taking her for weeks because I thought it might be the end of the road for my sweet 14 year old golden retreiver. But it finally got so bad that Bill said I had to take her to the vet. So today I went. I was prepared for whatever he told me, knowing that Bill had said he was not financing any heroic efforts to save the dog.
And when the vet saw the tumor he was shocked. Said it was one of the worst he’d seen. Asked how long it had been there. I turned my head to the wall because I didn’t want to see it as he was squeezing and poking it.
And then he asked somewhat trepidly….”Do any of your kids, by chance, have any sticky, ball-type candy?”
“Uhm, probably. Why?”
“Well, this is not a tumor….your dog has a big black peice of candy stuck between her toes.”
Nice. $51 for a pedicure for my dog.
The vet went on to say that in all of his years of being a vet (and he’s pretty old), he has never seen anything like that. (You should know, the “tumor” was located on her back paw…that is why Looper couldn’t reach it.)
I told the vet I wasn’t surprised – it’s just another Darla story.