I had a good time at work today. Normally, discovering one agent was absent and having two clients burst in through the doorway precisely at nine o'clock with demands that we book tickets for them would have completely boggled me, but I was determined to have a good week and didn't let it bother me. I'm certainly not used to having to actually work as soon as the front doors are unlocked but hey, I can handle it! Dressed? Check. Computer turned on? Check. Coffee at hand? Check. By nine I've been awake an entire 45 minutes, no problem. Clients, schmients.
And even though the day wasn't without a few rough spots I really did stay in the most wonderful, buoyant mood. At one point I was joking about Wisconsin place names, and cracking up myself so much that everyone else in the office was laughing their heads off. I don't know why I was that perky; I hadn't had extra coffee or anything, and I certainly didn't get a good night's sleep. Just one of those days. I loved coming out of work at 5:30 and seeing how dark it was. The trees lining Broadway were sparkling with tiny white lights which looked festive in the fading twilight. I felt a surge of anticipation, that lovely holiday sensation that something fun is in the offing.
I spent some time at the mall while John went to the celebration of the PEP-II opening at SLAC. Love those acronyms. It was a physics thing and I didn't feel like schmoozing with the Secretary of the Department of Energy so I went shopping instead. Didn't buy anything; I'm feeling slightly shell-shocked by recent accumulation of personal debt and have sworn off new clothes until the new year. By the time we got home the new moon was sailing overhead, white and saucy among the envious stars. I took Dixie out for a walk and we investigated one of our usual routes.
While we were waiting at a crosswalk to go back I ran my hands over her sides and tummy as I often do, checking for ticks or cuts or other irregularities. I massaged the area around her scar, feeling the stiffness of the hair that's never grown back in quite right after two surgeries. And I found a lump the size of an egg. Her tumor is back for the third time in two years.
I don't know what we're going to do. But I'm not going to freak out, and I'm not going to worry about it until we've taken her to see the vet. I don't regret the surgeries she had if only because she had a really great, pain-free time in between them. She's 10 now, and naturally we don't want to go through surgery every year, but I don't know what the alternatives are with an older dog. I'm glad I was in such a good mood all day. It helps in dealing with the unpalatable discoveries of the evening.
If you're religious, could you ask St. Francis to watch over her? I don't want her to be lonely whenever we come to the end of this road.
