i'm not worried about my foot now. i'm worried for mister. he's going to go under general anaesthetic to have a growth removed. i worry that he won't come out of it. that he'll just stay asleep. he's sleeping more, deeper now. he used to wake before i arrived, and bark to greet me. now i have to fetch him back from the other place. this afternoon i touched his head and he startled and looked at me as though suddenly returned from far away. 
there's very little we control, and i see that is one reason we have dogs. they love us no matter what, and when they love they don't leave. a dog of one's own is not about control, but a relationship not dictated by the control of society, authority, money, of respect, empathy, cooperation, where control is relieved, and relinquished. 
but as i have had to admit for all these years, though i love him entirely, he's not my dog. loving a dog that's not one's own is a lesson in surrender.