My Golden Retriever Alton Had to Have Surgery

I have written a lot about our Golden Retriever Fur Son, Alton, on this blog. And good Lord willing, I will be able to write a lot more in the years to come. But for today’s post, I wanted to share about a recent surgery Alton had to have. Thankfully, it was a minor procedure. But any time a pet has to go under anesthesia, there are risks. Additionally, Alton is eight years old now. As they say, for a large breed dog, he’s getting up there.

Last spring, we noticed that he was developing some lumps and bumps on his body. The largest of which was near his right shoulder. When we took him to the vet for his regular check-up, she said she would needle poke it, but she assured us she thought it was just a benign fatty tumor, another name for a lipoma. There was no need to talk of removal at the time because it wasn’t that large.

Well, that changed over the summer. In the ensuing months, the lipoma started to fill up more and more and sag. I jokingly referred to it as his “side-booby.” I don’t think he appreciated the humor, but he let it slide since I’m the one who gives him treats from the table. Also, I don’t really think “booby” is in his vocabulary.

We took him back to the vet in mid-November, and his vet agreed that the lipoma should be removed. She told us to try to make sure he didn’t irritate it, and she would look to get it scheduled as soon as possible. Surgery day was supposed to be the first week in December. However, a few days prior, we got a call that she was out on a family emergency, so we would have to reschedule Alton’s surgery. Between her limited availability and the holidays, the next appointment we could schedule was January 6.

Unfortunately, it turned out Alton’s tumor wasn’t on the exact timetable we were. By the second week in December, it started to spring a leak. I wish I could find a cute or funny way to describe what happened, but it was actually quite gross. Think of a poked hole in a water balloon. Only what comes out isn’t water. I’ll leave it at that.

Thankfully, Alton didn’t seem any the worse for wear. Other than being annoyed by the sag of his side-booby, he could have cared less. And once it started to leak and get smaller, it got less annoying. I just had to make sure he couldn’t contort himself to lick it. I did what I could to keep it clean and stable until his surgery day.

The day finally came and Drew, and I dropped him off for his pre-med check at 8 o’clock that morning. I love our veterinary clinic, and I felt very confident with him in their care. Yet, I was still an anxious mom. I love him so much, and I dreaded the thought of anything going wrong.

By 11 a.m., our vet called and said Alton had done great during the procedure, and he was already in recovery. I was so relieved. The vet ended up needing to remove three masses. In addition to the one we knew about, she found two more burgeoning spots that would have grown similar to the first. One was back near his hindquarters, and the other was on his neck. She texted me during the procedure to get my permission to remove all three, and I said yes, to please remove whatever she felt was necessary. After all, if he’s under the knife, she might as well do them all at once. The expense of the procedure and having him go through it are both reasons I hope we don’t have to do it again. At least not any time soon.

They said we could come and pick him up any time after 1 p.m. Drew went in to get him. A few minutes later, he come out with Alton. I was standing at the van with the ramp down ready to greet him. He immediately recognized me, but it was also easy to see he was still lethargic from the anesthetic and pain medicine. On a couple of rare occasions we have had to sedate him for things like loud 4th of July fireworks. He always gets this really droopy look in his eyelids, and he had that similar look. It made me feel even more protective than usual.

He could walk up the ramp and jump up on the back seat, which is good because it really is the safest place for him to ride in the van. I offered him a piece of cheese (his favorite treat) as he laid down. He initially gobbled up the first piece, but he spit out the second piece I offered him. I didn’t pressure him to eat it. I just have him a few pets on the head, a gentle hug, and told him we’d have him home soon.

Drew and I followed the vet’s instructions closely when we got home. We always kept him in our sights and made sure to keep him as relaxed and rested as possible. All he wanted to do at first was lay on the back patio, his favorite spot. For being a double coated furry Golden Retriever he sure loves sunbathing in the California. I let him lay out there for an hour or so as he woke up more from the drugs they gave him at the vet.

I’ve learned from prior experiences with my dogs and surgeries that you need to give them many opportunities for bathroom time because they load them up with IV fluids during surgery, which is why Alton wasn’t all that thirsty when he got home. I knew he was going to be hungry soon, through. The trick was figuring out what he would eat, and I knew whatever it was, we had to start with small meals.

Alton tends to have a sensitive stomach, so I was somewhat prepared for the worst. Either him vomiting, having diarrhea, or both. When he hasn’t felt well in the past, he also tends not to eat his dog food. Which ultimately makes him feel even worse. He just doesn’t understand that connection which leads me to embark on a carousel of food samplings to entice him to eat. I know some people have the attitude that a dog will eat when he gets hungry enough. Not our guy. And while I don’t want to encourage picky eating behavior, I’m not willing to let him suffer just because of a battle of wills.

I initially offered him the high-brow dog food we usually feed him, but he turned his nose up at it. Then I remembered that I had some canned food as a backup stash in the hall closet. It is hard for me to understand why Alton likes this canned food when he eats such a higher quality food as his regular diet. Think of it like being offered Filet Minon but wanting to eat Hamberger Helper instead. Maybe to him, it is like comfort food. And a dog or not, all we ever want when we don’t feel good is comfort food, right?

For the next 12 hours or so, he gladly gobbled up appropriately portioned bowls of the canned dog food. I was so thankful and happy! By the following day, he was back to his old self. The surest sign of that was when he started playing with his toys was excited to go on his walks, even though we did take it easy at first.

During the longer period of recovery, the biggest concern is that the three wounds heal nicely, the sutures dissolve like they are supposed to, and there is no infection. I’m proud to report that Alton has been super good about leaving them alone. We bought a full-body recovery suit just in case we would need to cover them, but we have never had to use it.

I won’t apologize for thinking of Alton as my Fur-Son, even though I know some people might not understand. And that is okay. Irrespective of owning a pet, I learned that I wasn’t cut out for motherhood years ago. Just ask Alton some days! But it doesn’t mean I don’t love him just the same. I always wanted a Golden Retriever, even before I realized I did. I’m thankful for him every day, and I’m even more grateful he came through this medical procedure without any complications.

May it be this way for years to come.

I love you Little Man.