Rule of 3

The big day arrived (04/11), I had not slept at all, worrying about the risks of surgery let alone the recuperation.  He knew as soon as we got in the car we were going to ‘that’ place again. It took all my strength to keep heading west on the highway. Kona was whimpering and whining, all I could do was try to distract him by pointing out invisible squirrels on the side of the road…he wasn’t falling for it.

In the examining room while I was seated, he put his paws on my legs and got up on his hind legs so his face was directly in front of mine and practically wailed.

How could I calm his fears and hold back my own tears?

The surgeon escorted him away and assured me he would call in the afternoon once the surgery was over. The OVC has a tumor bank and I happily agreed to have whatever they took out of him added to it.

I slowly made by way to the car, his whimpering echoing in my ears. I put my head down on the steering wheel and sobbed…my fur baby was on his own. As I tried to gather myself for the drive back home, I got a photo via text from my husband of his scooter laying in the middle of the road. I almost fainted, luckily immediately a follow up text said ‘Luckily I’m OK’. He was hit by a trade van while stopped at an intersection! He has been riding for more 20 years and of all the days for this to happen?
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