I am awake at 2:plus because of Max, the best dog ever.
Max had a lump on his foot. I took him to the vet today because the lump, which had stayed the same for two years, had suddenly changed. Dr. Vet Guy decided to put Max under right then and take the thing off, along with a teeth cleaning and nail-trimming. Max came home a few hours later shy one lump and with pearly whites and a vet-special pedicure.
The Greyhound I used to have got flipped out by anesthetic and would wander, tachypneic and tachycardic, in circles until you gave him Valium and he fell over. This is apparently a Greyhound thing. Max, on the other hand, stared fixedly into the middle distance for a few minutes when he got home, drank a whole bunch of water and peed (carefully, being drunk), and then laid down and went to sleep. I slept on the couch, wanting to be nearby in case he needed me in the middle of the night.
Which it is now, and he doesn't. He's fine. I, on the other hand, am sore from being crunched up on what could be described as a couch only with the greatest charity. I woke up from a dream in which I was helping redecorate Hogwarts, pointing my wand at things and yelling "Accio 'Sixties!", attempting to remove all the bad mid-century design from the place. When the huge chandelier in my dream started to swing toward me, I said "Wait. Not you." Then I woke up.
Pathology on the lump should be back about the time Max needs his stitches out. The vet hazarded that it looked like a pericytoma, something humans don't get (as far as I know). Pericytomas are benign but locally invasive, rather like Max himself, and can regrow if not removed with clean margins. Near as I can tell from the shape of the Coban covering Max's foot, they managed to save the toe the thing was growing on. We'll see later on when I take off the bandage.
So here I am. Wide awake. At 2:plus a.m. At least I don't have to work today. And at least I'm not really responsible for decorating Hogwarts.