If Hrafi’s still going 90-to-nothing, he may well have some years left in him. As a fellow animal/dog lover, we watched Rhubarb slowly deteriorate due to the fact that our vet must have gotten their DVM by mail-order, and it was too late before someone competent made the correct call, so don’t hang it up on him yet. I’ll point you to the curious case of one Mr. Wilko Johnson. Guitarist for the 70’s British pub/punk band Dr. Feelgood, later a member of Ian Dury’s Blockheads. He was diagnosed about ten years ago with a pancreatic tumor the size of an NFL football. He still toured, but he said his guitar started sitting on the tumor like he was pregnant. He reconciled himself with his fate; they said the tumor had intertwined with his circulatory system in several other organs, and it was terminal. Then along came a friend, who was an M.D. and specialist, and said it was a slow-growth type of cancer and he could remove it. Highly risky, but as Johnson said, die on the table, or die in bed six months later on a morphine drip? He let his friend operate. Ten years on, he’s recorded a couple more albums (including a great one with The Who’s Roger Daltey called ‘Going Back Home’, a collection of old Feelgood and solo tunes), still plays festivals in Jolly Olde England, and he’s cancer-free. Food for thought. Like Frank Zappa said, you don’t cure dandruff with decapitation. See what the dog doctors have to say first.
That is my intention.
This hospital is very good and everyone gets referred there.
He gets every chance I can give.
And I do have a care credit card, but it’s very small because our credit sucks thanks to the Dems destroying our home business in the early 2000s.
It never recovered and I never had to beg for help, back then.
But Obama happened and that was it.
:(