Last week we kept an appointment at the veterinary clinic with little Riley. A month earlier we had brought him in for the veterinarian who has always looked after him to update himself on the condition of Riley's lipomas. They have grown considerably, so much so that the one original lump, while continuing to become larger had spawned additional ones under his belly, spreading out to form ever newer ones, deforming his neat little body. He seems unaware of their presence, and moves without evidence of constraint.

But there is an obvious limit to what his small body can accommodate in these ferociously determined fat growths, which no amount of tinkering with his diet appeared to make any difference to. We had hoped they would diminish in number and size as has happened before, but nothing of the sort. The original surgery to remove a baseball-sized lipoma seven years earlier had given us assurance that such a growth would never repeat itself. Little did we know.

Post-surgery at that time his recovery had been thankfully swift. We'd dressed him in a converted baby one-piece outfit to keep the surgical site clean and prevent him from licking it, let alone to absorb the liquids including blood that continued to be exuded from the surgical wound until he was completely healed. We have now resurrected that little blue outfit for the same purpose.

Last week we had taken him in again, for pre-operative blood tests, an EKG and a sample of the lipomas to have them examined under a microscope to ensure that this was indeed what they were. A canine heart specialist from Texas responded to the electronically-transmitted EKG results that for a 13-year-old dog, his heart was in fine shape to proceed with the surgery, and his bloodwork came back with a green light as well.

He is scheduled to be admitted to the clinic tomorrow morning to be prepared for the surgery to follow. We have been thinking of little else constantly in the past little while.