Thursday, May 25, 2006
Tuesday, Sandy to the vet with constipation and a couple of what thankfully turned out to be only fatty cysts. The poor thing hated being there, except there is a weighing machine, which she obediently stepped onto and stayed for enough time to get a reading. It was like she knew what to do and then I remembered that my Dad used to take her in just to weigh her. It was a bittersweet moment.
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