I Am Team Foster Dog

I knew that lump didn't look right.  A small bump on Foster Dog's back left leg.  Then it seemed bigger.  Then it seemed smaller.  I knew it wasn't right.  It's not right.  The lump is a Mast Cell Tumor.  That means cancer.

We have been down this road before so I know we can do it, but we've been down this road before so I know it sucks.

Foster is My Little One.  At 60 pounds, he's the smallest in The Pack, and he is just so sweet and tolerant and easy-going, and I'm sick about what he is about to endure.

Surgery is first.  Working on scheduling that as quickly as possible.  I've reached out to the veterinarians I know and they are all telling me they will do whatever I want.  I appreciate them trusting that I am informed and that I know what is best, but what I want is for this to not be happening to My Little One, to My Pack.

So for now, I will be consumed.  It's what happens when someone you love needs you in this deeply serious way.  It's at least what happens to me.  This is not about me, but I am the one Foster depends on to take care of him, so I have to be on my A-Game at all times.  He will do the healing and I will provide the environments.

Let's do this, Foster Dog.