I was talking with my friend about the things we have had on our to-do list for too long.  Some of the things are simple tasks: pick up dry cleaning, wash comforters.  Others, though, are not crossed off of the list because of fear: get second opinion for Roscoe's tumors. 

We got Roscoe nine years ago as, what I kindly refer to as, the pre-proposal agreement.  Not ready to get married, but kind of ready to commit to a dog, by husband shelled out the cash for a Redbone Coonhound and we had him flown in from Mobile, Alabama.  For nine years, he has been a great companion and family dog.  Often, with three young kids, overlooked he is still a precious part of our family.  With each of our three babies we sent home a blanket from the hospital for Roscoe to get acquainted with before actually bringing in the baby.  When we brought them all home, he had a few minutes to get a good smell of them and then that was it - he was fine with each of the children. 

For the most part everyone gets along well.  He is still as loud and protective of all of us as ever.  When my husband is late, Roscoe is on duty.  He won't relax until everyone is home.  Unless its after 8 pm, in which case he will find his bed and quietly say good night; but any suspicious noise will send him from a state of sound sleep to a frightening bark that still makes my heart skip a beat.  But at nine, he is still playful and a good running companion.

A few years ago when the vet found a fatty tumor I wasn't too worried about it.  Over the course of the past few months, one of the fatty tumors has grown to what looks like the size of a grapefruit.  So when I wrote "get 2nd opinion for Roscoe" on my to-do list, my heart was as heavy as a brick.  When I actually got the second opinion, my stomach sank and hasn't bounced back just yet. 

We are scheduled to have the tumors removed on Tuesday, October 16th.  Once they are removed they will be biopsied.  The new vet said, "I can't tell you if this dog has 3-4 good years, or six months" and I have heard that sentence every day for the past five.  Six months.  Six months is nothing.  Six months is a blip.  Three to four years is pretty short at this point - I mean, didn't we just get this dog?  Isn't he the one who makes girlfriends out of every over sized pillow he can get his paws on? 

It just cannot be cancer.  I cannot imagine that.  Or I don't want to.  It just takes from us.  And I don't want it to take him.  I know he isn't a human, I know he is just my dog.  But he is an awesome dog- he is gorgeous and so sweet. 

Sometimes procrastination is just putting off simple tasks.  But sometimes its a defense mechanism, because facing some of life's choices, some of life's realities sucks.  Plain and simple.