“Doctors?” said Ron, looking startled. “Those Muggle nutters that cut people up?”
~ J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

“I saved a man’s life once,” said Granny. “Special medicine, twice a day. Boiled water with a bit of berry juice in it. Told him I’d bought it from the dwarves. That’s the biggest part of doct’rin, really. Most people’ll get over most things if they put their minds to it, you just have to give them an interest.”
~ Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

Nurse Bert is having a big operation today.

Our free dog, come to us through fate and a cardboard box prison, has already cost us thousands. But what price love?

As a young dog he had first one and then the other back leg’s knee reconstructed because of severe patella luxation. A genetic deformity. Our vet always joked that Bert was the luckiest dog alive to have landed in our household and under our care.

After years of Bert’s tender nursing of me as I have battled Lyme disease, I’m not so sure who is the more fortunate.

Of course there have been many more hospitalisations and close calls. A few years ago Bert took a bait thrown over the fence by robbers at our city house and almost died from internal hemorrhaging. Last year he ate a vast quantity of macadamia nuts and nearly croaked it. And then ate rat bait at a friend’s farm, and endured yet another touch-and-go experience.

Earlier this year he ended up in surgery again after developing a huge abscess thanks to an errant grass seed.

And today? Today he’s having surgery to repair a snapped cruciate ligament. A situation complicated by his previous knee surgeries, and requiring a specialist vet surgeon. Surgery not covered by insurance, and one which will cost roughly the same amount as the holiday we would have had later this year.

But none of that matters. Bert is in pain, and as an athletic dog who needs to keep up with his younger brother Harry down on the farm, the surgery is needed. Neither of the other options were options at all. (Let him limp and suffer and try to keep him quiet while giving him vast quantities of anti-inflammatories. The pain would worsen and nothing to be done. Or euthanasia. Honestly!)

Keep our boy in your thoughts today. Send him a little love and healing if you get the chance. He’s been the bestest friend and companion I could ever hope for, and all I want is for his op to go smoothly, and for his outcome to be good.

I already have my essential oil kit and crystal grid ready for him when he comes home, to keep him calm and hasten his healing. And I promise to keep you posted about his progress!