The fact that I like my dogs more that I like most people isn’t exactly a secret. Of course means I’m not going to trust their treatment to just any schlep who’s got just enough smarts to slide through vet school and hang out their own shingle. After meeting with the orthopedic surgeon this morning, the only part of me that regrets being anal retentive enough to want to see an expert is my wallet. I spent a little more than an hour getting a crash course of canine anatomy and physiology and peppering her with questions about the specific benefits and drawback of the “top three” options. After selecting the tibeal plateau leveling osteotomy (TPLO), which involves changing the structure of the joint, adding a steel plate, and a few screws, I spent another 45 minutes with the OR nurse picking her brain about after care and things to avoid once Winston gets home. I was actually impressed with being able to spend almost two hours talking to the people who are doing the surgery, though I suspect they were happy when I reached the end of my laundry list of questions.

I’m satisfied that this is the best way to proceed, or I was right up until the estimated bill was placed gently in front of me. For the record, if someone in a vet’s office comes at you with a three page itemized bill, you should go ahead and sit down before you start reading it. I offered to trade them a kidney or a lobe of my liver for the service, but they politely declined, which is unfortunate since I’m pretty certain that would be less painful than actually paying the bill. Any plans I had for a vacation, or doing anything that costs more that a cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee, are suspended indefinitely.

I’m sitting here writing this with one eye on the clock. I know this hot shot doctor of mine was scheduled to do three surgeries this afternoon, but I don’t know what order she had them planned. Suffice to say every time the phone beeps, I jump halfway out of my chair. Yeah, you could saw I’m wound a little extra tight at the moment. With the ramp built from the deck to the yard and as much of the floor as possible covered with non-slip rugs, I’m down to the point of the day where all I can do is wait. No bets on how many of you can guess on how I feel about that.