She wasn’t broken. ‘Fixed’ is a euphemism for having a hysterectomy.
I didn’t want her to have it done and had put it off as long as possible. I’d considered all the arguments for and against.
Most experts said that a female dog should be allowed at least one season. (Another euphemism.) I allowed her two, letting her get to almost two years old.
She faithfully followed me into the vet’s surgery, where I handed her lead to the vet who took her away. She looked back at me cowed and confused.
I collected her late afternoon.
She wouldn’t look at me.
Walking with obvious discomfort she followed me to the car and I had to help her up.
She forgave me a few days later, but I still feel like a complete traitor.
I’m envisioning the battle to get her into the vets on Friday to get the stitches out.
She’ll know where I’m taking her this time.