Bruno had his surgery on Friday, to remove a cancerous mass on his side. It was perfectly round, like a ping pong ball, but it never bothered him. I could move it all around and mess with it and he never minded.
The surgery went very well. The vet said he didn't even bark in the kennel as he was awaiting surgery. He made friends with the whole staff and they couldn't stop talking about how wonderful he is. (Of course, I already knew this!)
Despite having the time of his life at the vet, he was still very happy to see me when I came to pick him up. He rode all the way home with his head on my shoulder. Luckily he is big enough to do that from the backseat!
He came home with a large shaved area and 6 sutures. The first day, he was fine. He didn't lick at the site or anything. Most of Saturday was fine too. I should back up here and tell you that Bruno is incredibly attached to me and never strays more than five or six feet from my side. He is always either right behind me or at my feet. He never gets in my way, but he has this thing where he HAS to be near momma at all times. So it was very easy for me to watch him and make sure he wasn't licking his incision, or having any drainage or swelling.
Then, yesterday evening, my best friend and I went to the bookstore and left the dogs and kids at home with my husband. When I came back, I discovered that while I was gone, Bruno went up to the bedroom, under the guise of napping, and chewed out more than half of the stitches.
The wound wasn't bleeding but it was gaping open and I could see his muscle underneath. I knew it couldn't stay like that so off the emergency vet we went.
The trip cost more than the whole surgery itself, but they were able to put in a local anesthetic and staple him up. (To have him sedated and stitched was going to cost over $400!!! So we chose local and staples, for $200.)
Now he is home, with a huge cone. He thinks he can't walk with it on, and when I can convince him to walk, he bumps into everything. He is mad at me for putting him in this ridiculous contraption. I'm sorry Brunski - you're the dog brain who decided that the stitches had to go!