ANYWAY. I dropped him off that morning. He didn't even realize that I'd left, LOL, because there was a pretty vet-tech cooing at him. Argos has always had a thing for the ladies. I saw him following her into the backroom, with his tail wagging. Poor guy.
Last time this happened, they called us somewhere between 12:30 and 1:00 to tell us that he was waking up, and that we could come get him sometime between 3-5. This is what I was expecting again.
But... 1:00 came and went, then 2:00. I held out until 2:30, then I called to see what was going on. Apparently they'd had non-stop surgeries all morning, and Argos was still under anesthesia, and still being worked on. I was told that they'd call me soon. 3:00 came and went, and both Jeff and I were getting antsy; I was literally pacing the floor, unable to focus on anything. FINALLY, at 3:40, the phone rang, and the vet told us that they'd pulled three teeth (better than I had hoped for) and that his head lump had popped right out. They'd let us know the results of the biopsy, but in the meantime we could come pick him up between 5 and 5:30.
Argos was still pretty doped up when we came to get him. He was panting and drooling and dripping blood from his mouth. His back legs didn't work 100% of the time, and would give out on him at random intervals. Jeff carefully walked him out to the car and picked him up to put him in, while I stayed inside and talked to the vet and got his antibiotics and painkillers that we'd be giving him for the next several days.
It was a long night, but he did wake up the next morning feeling much more himself. I breathed a big sigh of relief when he came out of his sleeping crate, looked up at my face, and wagged his tail.
He's been doing great ever since. His head wound is healing nicely, and he's got quite an appetite, now that it doesn't hurt to eat anymore.
The fly in the ointment is that we got the biopsy results back on Saturday. It was not just a fatty tumor or an infected cyst. It was a cancerous skin tumor; a myxosarcoma. The biopsy results suggest that the vet got the entire tumor. There is a chance that it will come back, so we need to keep an eye on him. More than likely, though, it will not come back in his lifetime, as the prognosis was that it would come back in approximately 5 years. (He's 10 now. I've known a couple of greyhounds that made it to age 15, but most do not.) As much as I would love to have him around when he's 15, I would prefer that the tumor never come back.
We just have to watch him. Actually, we need to watch him for signs of skin tumors anywhere on his body.
So... perhaps not the BEST news, but the vet was fairly optimistic that this wasn't going to be an ongoing problem. I do hope that she's correct. \
Meanwhile, Maera is just happy to have her brother back. OMG, she was so depressed the day that he was gone. I've never seen happy, bouncy, perky Maera morose and sad before, but she was all day, or at least, she was until we brought him back home. She perked up immediately, though was very concerned about him and kept walking over to sniff him while he slept off the effects of the anesthesia. So cute!
They try to act like they are constantly annoyed with each other, but when it comes down to it, they are pack.