Saturday found me in the car driving for dog food and leaving a convoluted message on my vet’s voice-mail.

Yes, I’m adding one more thing to my ever growing list of things to have taken care of at Sampson’s dental cleaning.

For those of you keeping score at home that would be

• One dental cleaning
• Removal of one Sebaceous cyst
• Removal of one fatty tumor
• X-rays of his back legs and lower spine
• And one secret procedure I will tell you about AFTER the cleaning

My crazy, incoherent message indicated I wanted x-rays of Sampson’s back end.

So right now you’re thinking, Jeez, she really is the crazy dog lady.   And truthfully, I think you might be justified in that thought.  I think.  You can call me paranoid, over-cautious, and behind my back you probably do call me that crazy dog lady, but guess what?

I’m okay with that.  I really am.  Because this dog literally saved me from an abyss these last few years and I’m going to do everything in my power to keep him healthy and happy as long as possible.

I know you’re probably wondering what tossed me off the deep end thinking Sampson needs x-rays.  I’ve been noticing for a while that his back legs shake sometimes.  And not just at one particular time.  Sometimes they shake when he’s standing, sometimes they shake when he’s squatting and sometimes they shake when he has them up in the air.

In and of itself I suppose it’s to be expected.  Except when I posted this picture

Animal Couriers said, “Lovely shot – looks like Sampson is doing a ‘lazy’ sit as we call it.”

I started paying attention and I noticed that Sampson sits that way a LOT, always tucking his left side in under him.  Okay, maybe he is just lazy.

Then he fell/slipped.  At least four times in the last two weeks.  Every time it was that left side.

One time we were walking to the park and he was walking through some leaves, stopped to tinkle and slipped off the curb.  It could have been the leaves and him not knowing where the curb was.

One time he slipped and sort of fell on his side (again in leaves) as he was making a turn from the trail to the field.

Last week he was tearing around the house and turned a corner and it seemed like his legs kicked out from underneath him.

One time he attempted to jump on the bed and missed,  dropping back to the floor.

Sampson has always been a what I call a lazy jumper.  He’d just prefer not to jump.  For years getting him into the car entailed him putting his front paws up and waiting for us to lift him.  He’d do this when getting on the bed too.  And for a while we did lift him (sometimes we still do.)

But now when I’m thinking back, his back legs seem stiff when I lifted him and I’m wondering if I’ve been missing the signs all along?

The guilt is coming.  It’s that nagging voice that says, “You should have added the pieces up sooner, what if it’s something bad and you’ve been oblivious to it all along?”  “What if you could have been doing something to help him?”

I hate that voice.

Heart Like a Dog Lesson:

Sampson doesn’t hang on to guilt.  He feels whatever the occasion calls for and moves on to the next event, he doesn’t let emotion about an event he has not control over consume him.  As long as he has his humans by his side he’s happy.  I’ve got to learn to enjoy the time I have left, instead of letting guilt cloud our time together.

Handsome Sampson

Sampson is a handsome boy.  I mean just look at this face.

You cannot see the Sebaceous cyst in this photo.

Besides a myriad of nick names, I sometimes call him Handsome Sampson.  Try saying that three times fast.  Go ahead.  I double dog dare you.

See you can’t.  It’s just like licking your elbow.  Not possible.

Dogs don’t care what they look like

Sampson’s mother is a Golden Retriever while his dad’s breed is unknown.  Since we’ve never had any DNA tests run, we’re guessing Black Lab.  His vet records indicate Golden Lab.  As you can see from this photo, Sampson is beginning to get the white face that you see on so many Goldens and Labs.  When I look at that sweet graying face, it breaks my heart because I know my time left with him is less than the time I’ve already had with him.  But Sampson rarely looks in the mirror and when he does, all he sees is a happy dog.

Good gracious sebaceous!

There’s one other thing Sampson has going on on his face and that’s a Sebaceous cyst.  (Thanks to poor planning on my part, the photo I took of it, is not currently available.  I’ll share it on Friday.)

Sampson of course, is oblivious to the growth on his face. I’ve never noticed him paying much attention to it.  It doesn’t seem like it’s itchy because I haven’t noticed him scratching at it or rubbing his face on the carpet to scratch it.

He doesn’t look in the mirror every day to see what the cyst is looking like, he doesn’t pick at it in hopes of ‘popping’ it or making it smaller and he certainly doesn’t rearrange his fur to try and ‘cover’ it up.

Heart Like a Dog Lesson

I on the other hand seem to always touch this when I’m petting him.  At least once a day I think Oh no, he’s got a tick before realizing I’ve touched the cyst.  It’s well below his eye and in no way affects him.  Yet I still obsess over it.

I also obsess over what people will think of me because I’m carrying a little more weight than I feel comfortable with.  I worry what people will think when they look at my choice of outfits.  I make damn sure to point out the zit on my face before anyone else can.

In a nutshell, I’m vain.  I worry about how I look.  And because of this vanity, I also worry about how my dogs look too.  Which is why when Sampson goes in for his teeth cleaning on December 10th, I’m have that Sebaceous cyst removed.

Why I don’t know, because it’s certainly not bothering Sampson.

Are you like me, worried how others will view you?  Do you find yourself projecting that worry on your dog’s appearance as well?  Are you struggling to find your inner Heart Like a Dog?