Farley the Wonderdog volume 7229076

I took Farley to the vet the other day to get his shots updated. He weighed in and atleast one of us has met their goal weight. It's not me. Farley is down to 98 pounds! If you'll remember, he's been on a steady diet for the last year and a half. Me too, and I'm still working on it. I was so excited because really, I worked hard for that dog to lose the weight. I sent MyDaph a note telling her about Farley. "He's lost more than 25 pounds!"
And she comes back with, "OMG, is he sick?" Uh no!

So, we did a happy dance, got his shots and got out of there.

Farley is getting old. He's acting it. Just moving slower. He pants more. He looks like kind of a mess right now because the vet shaved this matted hair where the most disgusting sebacious cyst is. We're having it removed simply for cosmetic purposes. That and because we were snuggling the ol boy on the couch one night and the cyst just burst and it's gross. So, we're having it removed. But he's walking around with this shaved spot to highlight what looks like a small mound of warts. And recently his left eye hasn't been opening.

From my life experiences, and apparent paranoia meshed with my love for this dog, I was petting him one night and his eye wouldn't open and I thought, OMG he's got cancer! Now, I have no basis for my irrationality. But I love this dog and he's starting to go downhill.

So, I took him back to the vet. We weighed him, he's maintaining his new svelt figure. And then I showed the nurse what I was talking about with his eye and stuff. I don't know if it was her tone of pity or what, but after she looked at him and then left me in the little room with Farley to wait on the doctor, I started to freak out a bit.

Farley shivered. He does not like the vet. Well, he's fine once he's seen. But apparently the anticipation of "What the hell do you have me back here again? I was all for the car ride but this is a bit extreme, we were just here two weeks ago." All that makes the dog shiver. So, I pet him and tried to soothe him, and that's when I got all melodramatic and started thinking, "Oh god, what if it's really bad?" I mean, what if MyDaph was right and Farley lost all that weight because he's sick and now his eye is flubbed up!?

I do not want to be the one to have to get my kids through saying goodbye to Farley. Farley has been a force of joy and terror in our lives since the dawn of my and Ricardo's relationship. Really, before that. But Farley kept us together. Okay, maybe not. Still, he's been there always. When we got engaged, we took Farley to the park to tell him first. When we got married, I wanted him in the wedding, but Ricardo was concerned Farley would drag our sweet ring bearer down the aisle. Good point. Instead we had a cake topper personally hand crafted with Farley on it. Oh yes we did. And when I was 4 months pregnant, I finally had to explain to Farley when I was four months pregnant that he couldn't sit in my lap anymore. When my water broke, it was Farley that I sat and deliberated with as to whether that was really my water breaking and should I call the Doctor or Ricardo first. Farley suggested Ricardo, so I did. When we brought those babies home he did not know what the heck was going on. When they learned to crawl over to him, that was almost Farley's boiling point, but he learned a strategic lick in their faces was a good defense. And when the kids go out to play, Farley watches out the window or front door to make sure they are okay. When a stranger drives or walks by, Farley lets me know.

Now the kids feed him and love on him. They have Farley-isms for him. I catch them petting him and talking to him just like I do. They read to him. I catch them dropping food for him or asking if Farley can help them out with their broccoli. And when we come home and discover Farley has eaten the kids Valentine's candy they left out, or an empty tupperware container just in case there might have been something in it, the kids defend him, beg me to not yell at him.

"But he just ate your candy."

"He's a good boy, Mom. We left it out. It's not his fault."

Great, he teaches the kids consequences now too. Good thing, because so far, I haven't been able to do it. The dog wins.

All that flashed before my eyes, and Farley's good eye. And then the Doc walked in. Not a moment too soon. Farley is not dying, he has a very large scrape on his eye. Did you know dogs have 3 eyelids? They do. He's been prescribed some meds to help with potential infection and he's okay.

The dog is almost 12 years old. At some point Max read that labs average lifespan is 10-12 years. He cried for two days. Why did I encourage him to read!?

Ever try explaining averages to a devastated 7 year-old? Don't bother. He won't believe you. So, instead of trying to explain averages and percentages, I explained it in Farley terms.

"Baby, Farley is far beyond your average dog. Now, who wants cake!?"

Farley does. Me too.

That's how I roll.