Luck. Another purely human idea. I must admit that I don't totally understand the concept of luck.  I hear mother and her helpers use the word a lot.  Dancing Debbie will say, "You're so lucky to have such a sweet dog" or "It's your lucky day, Dumpling, no shots for you."  Dogs don't think about luck, you either have something or you don't, and if you don't have something but you really want it, you just take it.  Or maybe you just try to take it, and sometimes the plan works and sometimes it doesn't.  But even if it doesn't, you just try again tomorrow.  Bea is a living example of this philosophy, every day she tries to get on the kitchen counter and usually someone sees her and yells, but every once in awhile, a day like Sunday comes along.  A day in which the couch was pushed just a little closer to the counter than normal, and a day that saw half a brownie get put on that counter for safe keeping.  Before mother could turn around Bea had herself a brownie.  Now some would call that luck, but not me, I got right in on the action and I would call it delicious. 
Moon Pie would have what mother would call bad luck.  She returned today, not for a happy visit, or taking of the syrup, she came in today with one of her eyeballs hanging out.  No one knew what had happened.  "Did she have a seizure?  Did she bump her head?" so many questions, but no answers.  Mother even called someone called a nerve-ologist to see if eyeballs can just pop out on their own, but everyone seemed to think something must have happened to the little wrinkled girl.  If something did, no one was talking.  Sweet Sally and Mother gave Moon Pie some pinches, put a tube in her mouth and strings through her eyelids to get the eyeball back in place.  "We'll know more in a few weeks when the sutures come out" mother said " I doubt that she'll be able to see out of the eye though" she added.  Poor bad luck Moon Pie; finally a happy home only to discover her liver doesn't work and her eyeball out of it's socket.
Enrico also made a return visit today.  He seems to be doing well; no stinky oozing wounds, and he walks like he feels pretty good.  Mother had the worried look though, which you should know by now is not something you want when she looks at you.  Enrico got his drains pulled easily, and the beeping machine up the back end was "normal" according to mother.  But the problem was Enrico's side, it was as swollen today as it was when his spleen was hanging out.  Mother had hoped that the swelling was just fluid, but after 5 days, the fluid should have moved.  Sweet Sally and mother worked on taking more black and white pictures, even putting special fluid in the holes to see if it would show up in his abdomen.  The end result was that Enrico has to come back tomorrow for another procedure, "I think some of the muscles between his broken ribs have given way and he has another hernia.  I don't think anything too important could be sticking out otherwise he'd be acting sick.  Lucky really". Compared to the little boy mother was reading about that lost a fight with a Rottweiler, I guess I could see how mother could call Enrico lucky.  But facing a second  procedure at my clinic tomorrow, I don't think there's any convincing Enrico of it.