Saturday, August 18, 2012

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

If you asked Bruno what his favorite thing is, I think he would tell you it's that Daddy is home all day, every day. As I slave away at my keyboard from morn' to night, he generally lies on my feet, only making a peep when the delivery man comes 'round or it's time for our post-coffee, pre-sweltering-heat-of-the-day jog.

So the first time I took a business trip last month, it was hard on both of us. Especially hard for me, because I had just recently discovered that Bruno suffers from seizures.


It's downright terrifying to sit there helpless, watching your baby convulse, knowing there's nothing you can do. It's an even worse feeling leaving home alone all day, not knowing if he's going to have a seizure when no one is around.

His doc thought that going ahead and getting him snip-snipped might help a little, since hormones can be a potential seizure trigger, but I researched that, and it seems that estrogen is far more likely a trigger than testosterone (which this child has in spades!), but he needed to be neutered anyway, because it's the responsible thing to do.

It also gave me the opportunity to take a tissue sample for his DNA test! I've been trying for weeks, but every time he sees the swab, he freaks out and hides. And I'm pretty sure he would have let me scrape the inside of his cheek if I pressed the issue hard enough, but it wasn't worth putting him through the anxiety.

So his doc let me stay in the operating room with him this week until he was anesthetized so I could scrape his cheeks and get the samples in the mail. Which, on the one hand, yay! But on the other hand, there's a reason doctors are always kicking family members out of hospital rooms in TV. It turns out, Bruno is prone to anesthetic apnea, which is all well and fine when you're reading about on the internets, but another thing altogether when you see it happening to your baby! The Christian concept of Hell has nothing on the next hour of my life. Srsly. But Bruno came through just fine, and his doc was nice enough to let him recover in an examining room instead of a kennel, because Bruno tends to go a little Grrr SMASH when he's caged.

Hopefully the DNA results are worth all the effort. Actually, to be honest, I don't really care what the results are; I just want something on paper that I can point at when people argue about what he is. Because everyone has an opinion, and they're all different. "Oh, he's definitely got some Boxer in him, but I don't see the Bullmastiff!" "Oh, look at that beautiful Staffy mix! No, I don't see any Boxer in him at all!" "Oh, if you ask me, he's Bullmastiff and Boxer, no doubt about it! Pit, though? Nah!"

I'm typing this while taking a break from packing for another trip. Bruno doesn't get his stitches out until the day after I get back, which is another source of stress. But hey, I get to go to Disneyland for the first time! Yay!

Who am I kidding? I'd rather be home snuggling with my little smooshy-bouche.


  1. It it wrong that, every time I see a picture of Bruno, I just want to put my forehead on his? He's got this great skull.

  2. That big old block head is a lot more snuggly than you'd think! Which is a good thing, since all nine hundred pounds of it ends up draped across me every night.