Monster and the Cone of Shame

I ate a stupid rope toy and they cut me open to get it out. It happens fast. You’re alive, they shave you, you fall asleep, you’re gone. But I was lucky.

While I was on the operating table, the vet told my dad it was worse than expected, that I had a 50/50 chance of living, and should she continue? It’s a silly question if you know us. 50 is a lot more than 0, after all. He told the vet to get back in there and do her job.

I’m Monster and we’re fighters. It’s who we are, it’s in our blood. We fight.

But it comes with scars, and costs. Like the cone of shame and staples in my stomach and a few tears here and there and I’m short a foot of intestines. Who cares, it’s worth it. Fighting, life, the time we have with those we love. Even when it’s really tough, it’s all worth it.

This holiday season, I’m especially happy to be alive. I wasn’t ready to say good-bye to you all just yet, and hope you weren’t ready to say good-bye to me yet, either.

 

 

 

 

PS do me one favor: no matter how much you love life, don’t eat the rope toy, those things can kill ya.

2 comments

  1. CINDY FALSCHLEHNER says:

    So Monster, what is it with you labs? I have two – Brown Dog (yes, that’s his name – he’s adopted, and Brownie just wasn’t tough enough for his furniture scaling, hole digging, cat food stealing nature) and Hank. We also have an adopted cat or two (but that’s a story for another day). Long story short, there was a closed box of closed cat food cans on the kitchen counter. Brown Dog and Hank went counter surfing, opened the box and ate the unopened tin cans of cat food. A few days in the hooskow and enough money spent to buy quite a few Go Rucks, Brown Dog and Hank live to counter surf another day (when no one is looking of course). Lab noses must be pretty darn good to want to eat an unopened can or 12!

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