So I cried. Yes, I cried at the vet tonight. It's a new vet. She's very nice. Very too the point. I wasn't expecting her to say, "We need to get another sample." Let's rewind a little. Brando's lump had all but disappeared last Wednesday. It was such a relief. I thought it was my imagination. The lump was hard, the size of a golf ball, extending from the middle of his throat up toward his ear, under the left jaw line. Without saying a word to my daughter, I handed her Brando. "Feel his lump." I took a big sigh when she reported what I had already known, the lump was nearly gone. The fur and skin under his chin was back to looking like a Cavalier. He seemed happier. Playful as a pup, too. Fast forward to Saturday. My neurotic self was still doing the lump check everyday. What seemed to be forming again? The lump. It's strange how a word like "lump" is so scary. Maybe it's because my mother, recently passed away from cancer that I'm a little more nervous about a "lump." Who knows....that's a different story for a different blog. Back to Brando. As it turns out, the vet is closed until Monday. There's that waiting game, again. Monday finally comes, and as the day goes on the lump seems to be getting smaller. Like it or not, Brando still needed to be seen by his new vet. I told Brando that he would not be getting poked this time. I promised him, just as if he were one of my children going for a school physical, there would be no shots. I was completely shocked when she said she wanted to take another sample. Taking another sample wasn't part of the game plan. I started to cry. As I held Brando in my arms, he grew closer to me. My husband asked the vet if another sample would give a definitive answer as to what was going on, but she wouldn't commit. That's when we decided to try a new antibiotic. If the new antibiotic doesn't work, we have no choice, Brando will have to get poked again. As I breathe a sigh of relief, I hope the next blog is not called "The Mighty Syringe."