Two weeks ago we took our little dachsund/shi-tzu mix, Mila, into the vet to remove two lumps from her belly. As I was writing the vet a check for $587, I asked,
“So, how soon before we know if it’s cancerous?”
“It’s not cancer. She’s fine,” he said nonchalantly.
“Zat’s good news!” said Alex. “Vut vuz eet?”
“A lipoma,” said the vet, handing our dog to us and walking off.
“Lipoma?” Alex asked when we got into the car.
“Fat,” I said, rolling my eyes. “We just gave our dog liposuction.”
Mila wagged her tail.
“Awww! Look how happy she eez! I vonder if she had poor self-image?”
“Poor self-image? She licks her own cooter! She doesn’t have an esteem problem!”
“Maybe she lick cooter because she feel dirty and ashamed.”
“I just paid $600 to give my dog liposuction! I’m the one who feels dirty and ashamed! You don’t see me licking my own cooter!”
“Eet’s not for lack of trying.”
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