Not yet!

The classic Irish-Setter pose. (Photo by the so-called “old guy” with the dreaded and utterly reprehensible Nikon D100 with flash.)

Yesterday morning (Saturday, May 10, 2008), I thought I would be writing Killian’s tearful obituary today, but I guess not.
We still have a dog; a bit compromised, but still alive, and pretty much the same dog we had before.
He’s one of the neatest dogs we’ve ever had.
He was very weak yesterday morning, so Linda arranged a vet appointment at Livonia Veterinary Hospital, and we thought we’d be putting him to sleep.
Linda had to work at the post-office yesterday morning, so the vet appointment was at 12:30 p.m.
Before leaving, I thought I’d take the dog for a walk on the paths around our property one last time.
WHOA! The dog got up and did one of his big stretches that he always did before setting out on a physical foray.
I let him loose so he could sniff around the brush-pile for rabbits, and then put on his leash.
Off we went: march-marchity-march.
I began to cry as we circumvented the Back 40 — “is this the last time, Big Monster?”
“Nothing doing! I’m not listening to that baloney. Not yet!”
We drove to the vet, and laid down on what appeared to be the final blanket.
The Vet took his temperature, and analyzed a blood-draw.
“Not yet,” she declared.
“His red blood-cells are down a little, and white blood-cells almost nothing — his temperature may also be high. (CeeNU reduces white blood-cells — no infection-fighters; we have to give him antibiotics.)
“I notice his lymph-nodes are smaller, so the CeeNU may be working. The CeeNU will make him weak.”
“Everything’s normal,” I said. “Normal eating, normal pee, normal poop; and he took me for a walk.”
“Just weak and tired; but not totally zonked.”
No medical procedures; just “keep an eye on him.”
She also gave us a rectal thermometer; a digital.
“Call me on my cellphone if his temperature gets high.”
We drove home — with the dog.
“Lemme out,” BOINK! “I’m home!”
The whole time we were at the vet, he knew where out was.
On leaving, an assistant showed us her dog: a white & red field-setter, who looked and acted just like Killian.
A pole was thoroughly sniffed.
Only this dog was a she — Killian’s male — and she was red and white; Killian’s fully red.
Killian is an Irish Setter, but more a field-setter than a show-dog.
As such, he’s kind of small.

RE: “‘Old guy’ with the dreaded and utterly reprehensible Nikon D100.......” —My macho, blowhard brother-from-Boston, who is 13 years younger than me, calls me “the old guy” as a put-down (I also am the oldest). I also am loudly excoriated by all my siblings for preferring a professional camera (like the Nikon D100) instead of a point-and-shoot. This is because I long ago sold photos to nationally published magazines.

Our dog is “Killian;” a rescue Irish-Setter. He has lymphatic cancer, and is being treated for it with chemo. He’s over 10; we don’t know his birthdate. —I referred to him as “Big Monster;” since he pulls like a horse.

“Linda” is my wife of 40+ years. Like me she’s retired, but she works part-time at the West Bloomfield post-office.

“Livonia Veterinary Hospital” is in the nearby rural town of Livonia, N.Y.

“The Back 40” is a large grassy field behind our house.

“CeeNU” is an anti-cancer chemo treatment. The dog’s cancer is lymphoma; evidenced by swollen lymph-nodes.