Friday, August 1, 2014
So, I went to the vet. We had a staring contest and he poked at my face, but only with his fingers. Then he and my human talked for awhile.
VET: blah blah blah something about a hair follicle blah blah something about pugs and lumps
HUMAN: blah blah blah something about pugs and lumps
VET: blah blah blah TUMOR blah blah CANCER blah blah
VET: blah blah TUMOR blah blah blah NEEDLE blah blah CANCER
There was some other stuff too, but once I heard the C-word I kinda only listened to the parts about that.
When the vet was done talking, my human had to pick between letting the him stab me in the face with a needle to look for cancer -or- treating my lump like it's an angry hair follicle for a week, and then stabbing me in the face if it doesn't get better.
I guess because of all the stuff I didn't really listen to, they decided to go with the follicle. So for the next week I have to take drugs and let my human practically suffocate me with a hot wet towel three times a day. Both of these things are waaaay better than getting stabbed in the face *and* I'm getting loads of sympathy cookies.
Cancer = bad bad bad! Hair follicle = cookies!