It's a cruel, cruel world...

Little Pickle got her operation today. Everyone goes, oh, no! What's wrong? Nothing, and nothing will be, now. She is altered, figuratively as well as literally. Dogs do not do sick well. She is looking at me like I should know what to do, and I don't have a clue. There are pain pills, for tomorrow. And I am supposed to keep her from jumping up or down onto furniture. Yeah, that'll happen. The first thing she did was lay down out of my line of sight, and when I checked on her, she was outside laying in the dirt. Oh, no! Not good! I think she has settled for a while. Tonight, she will sleep by the side of the bed, to prevent any accidental jumping in the night. Gee, I remember when having a dog meant that you fed it table scraps, brushed off as many fleas as you could, had a litter of accidental puppies or two, and only took it to the vet when it got hit by a car. It has gotten a lot more conprehensive than that these days.