Can someone knock some sense into us? We are being totally ridiculous.
Lovely GinDog is due in for castration on Thursday morning and we are both shitting it that something's going to go wrong. He's five years old now which makes us worry he's more at risk.
I booked him in this morning, got off the phone and started to well up when I looked at him. DP has come home and asked if we can have him on the bed for the next two nights incase he doesn't make it. I've started thinking about giving him a lovely meal tomorrow.
It's like he's on bloody death row! It's a procedure these vets do constantly - why are we being so wet about it all?!