Bingo, the older of our two dogs, went in for surgery today to remove two cysts, one on his eyelid, the other on his front paw. Neither was a major problem, but the vet thought it was a good idea to do it now before he became too old to survive the operation.
We literally found Bingo eight years ago, lost/abandoned on Werneth Low. The vet reckoned he was then about two years old, but we don’t really know how old he is.
Tonight, I came home to find him with one of those big cones round his neck, reminding me of Nipper and HMV. They may stop him scratching the wound, but the poor old lad was wandering around, still woozy from the anaesthetic, crashing into things, chipping the paintwork and putting dents in my shins.
Truth is, Bing has always been what the vet described as a “polite” dog who has put up with the various pains and degradations that our mutts are subject to without complaint. Unlike our other dog, Jack, who needs sedation for a sedative!
I’m just glad Bingo was insured – 260 smackers would have been a lot to find!