Cole's Out of Surgery

Monday---
As I plan to stay at the vet school all day, I load up the farm dogs for the trip.
Pete acts like he's never been on a leash before.  The shiny floor in the lobby sends him into fits.  He struggles, flops on the ground, paddles around while snorting.  Gets loose and, thankfully, gets stuck between the two sets of automatic doors.  Meanwhile, Garrett mistakes a Yorkie for a squirrel.
Cole is relieved when the technician comes to collect him.  She informs me that he is 3rd in line and not the last surgery of the day either.  That it will be late in the day before I can get any news at all from Cole's assigned student.  Facing a day of complete futility, I opt to take my heathens back to the farm.
Two items on the To Do List:
#1 Stay Outside.  Non existent cell phone service inside the house.
#2 Build a Ramp.  Cole won't be able to walk up stairs or get up on furniture. 

1 & 2... should be simple, unless you're a Jamie.  One must, therefore, proceed through 1.1, 1.2, 1.3, 1.4386, ect, ect.
Firstly, all my building materials have been neatly stored under my house for a year.

I have a new shed, but hadn't the time to pull all the stuff out from the crawl space.  Since I get a good cell phone signal in the garden shed, I spend the afternoon and evening putting up shelves, tools, bicycles, tarp rack...

I trudge through the rain all day populating my new garden shed. (1.699 on the list).  Look Mom, I can decorate!

Keeping super busy keeps me from being sad.  Bursting flowers through the shed window help too.

The rain ceases, I'm about to hop on my ramp building when I hear a car coming down the driveway.  I poke my head out the shed door and see a thin man running ahead of the car.  I had my shotgun in the shed with me, so I follow, quickly, in a very inhospitable fashion.  I catch up with the the little punk and he tries to stammer out some reason why he and his friend are sneaking into the property.  I coerce them to turn around.  (Not on the List)
Back to the ramp.

Not so fast.  
Student calls at 6 from the vet school.  Cole made it through the surgery.  They think they were able to excise all of the cancerous tissue.  And bonus:  they didn't have to graft skin onto his leg. He could've end up with a flap of belly skin, complete with nipple, on his inner thigh.  Small miracles.  The cytology report won't be back for 5-7 days. We won't know until then what the final prognosis will be. One day a time.
Meanwhile, his physiotherapist is there when he wakes up.

Another friend happens to be on night shift and is assigned to him.
(Guardian angels working overtime on this one!)
I finish my carpeted ramp after 9.

Liz returns to the vet school because Cole is refusing to eat.  She hand feeds him.

Where would any of us be without true friends?
Meanwhile, I jump ahead to 2.14 on my list:

I drag a mattress into the tack room and wash every inch of the room.  
10:30 PM, I'm making a celebratory dish: fresh pesto pasta.

(Uncle John, this is a small branch that broke off one of the ten basil 'shrubs'---eat your heart out).

If I can gear down enough to go to bed before midnight, Garrett and I will practice snuggling.  His first attempt wasn't bad.

Not quite spooning if all that's touching are butt cheeks.  I'm not sure I enjoy the warm kisses he blows at me from that end.
Soon, Cole will be back in his rightful place, at my side.

Remember this, "life is a verb, not a noun". Don't let it pass you by.  I hate the heartache and struggles of loving so hard and living with the gas pedal to the floor, but it's worth it.  With every low comes a high.  Thanks to all of you for all the support and overwhelming kindness.