My relationship with our OLD dog

Ok, before I start with this rant, I need you to know a few things about Dog.

First, his name really is Dog, yeah, sometimes we call him Max, but for the first few years he was with us his names were: Lucky, Thumper, Dog, Pestilence, Max.... the list goes on. Nothing really stuck. Well, now we just call him Old Man. Trust me, its the only name that really fit. He's like 14 years old (98 in dog years).

Second, he's a bit ornery on occasion like, when I don't have food, when I'm not my mom, when I tell him to come inside... when he farts and leaves the room. Yeah, seriously, he does that and THEY STINK BAD.

With all of those things, you gotta love him. He still acts like a puppy when you take him out... he jumps totally defying gravity considering he's half cow. You have to laugh at him when you ask him to do something and he looks at you like YOU are crazy... I swear, he has no idea that he's a dog. He even fights with my little sister for affection when my mom is in the room then gives her the evil eye when she wins.

Getting to my point: Old Man has been sleeping in my room. Yes, his farts do stink but thankfully he doesn't do them as much because he can't leave the room either. He'll jump on my bed so that I can pet him (which I swear I'm afraid he's going to break something everytime he does it). Well, one evening I was petting his massively protruding belly. (so what if we feed him too much? he's old and deserves to live his life in a fatty bliss!) I notice that he has this bump... I'm like, how have I not noticed that? I touch it and it doesn't seem to hurt him, but it looks like a hernia. One of my previous puppies had one and it was in the same place.

I, of course, do what any sane person would do, I told my mom. She's worried and now i'm worried... he hasn't shown any symptoms and I remember my dad's hernia hurting him so I'm a bit worried about taking him to the vet. It's like a mile, maybe two walk. Well, if you know my dog, he LOVES to pee on everything that will prove he is still a male as virile as ever. I'm a little freaked out because I want to take him in but my mom needs to work and really, I should be able to get him there, even if we walk slowly. My mom and me agree that he hasn't been acting out of the ordinary... then bam! OMIGOD he could have cancer. WHAT? He can't have cancer! He's my dog! he's a survivor- THERE ARE FOUR LIGHTS!!! (star trek reference). I'm like trying not to freak out and start thinking - it HAS to be a hernia, he's fat and does shit no fat dog should do.

So I walk the poor dear and he starts running. Ok, last time I walked him, he practically collapsed in the neighbor's yard from heat exhaustion and I felt guilty about that. NOW i'm FREAKING out that he's going to pull something and hurt himself even more. Seriously, how fast can a fat dog run...? wow, jiggly fast. I'm like, I should let him run, he could be dying... seriously, he's 98, fat and might have cancer, if I could give him balls back I would so he could live it up.

I finally get him to the vets office and go to show her the hernia/cancer. I put him on the table and the little fucker won't show her his belly. She finally sees it but he is fighting for all he's worth (which considering my size, and his size... he's got a chance). Well, we call the other the lady in and we have to PIN him to the table. I look at his poor face and his eyes are so wide that it's like he's about to get hit by a car. My heart is in my throat.

The vet starts looking at it and then pushes it and touches it... you know in that doctor way... "hmmm.... it jiggles this way, it jiggles that way... it's still connected and under the skin... maybe if I pinch it, it'll just pop..."

And she goes, "ok, you can let him go" and I'm like "ok, doc, give it to me - i'm almost 28 I can handle it... just hand me a tissue." I'm expecting at least a surgery: hernia, exploratory, death.

Doc: "Max is fat"

(silence)
Me: "Yeah, I know, what is that thing?"
Doc: "It's fat. It's a fat ball, they get kinda hard sometimes..."
Me: "It's not a hernia, or cancer?"
Doc starts laughing: "Ummm... no, it's just fat."

Well, great.

I was preparing myself ALL day. Trying to figure out how to break it to my mom, my dad, my sisters... how I was going to feed him chocolate, make some ribs JUST for him. I was going to give him a beer or the good whiskey so he could see what it felt like to be a real man...

nope. he's not dying. He's just a farty, fatty cow.