Our little (well, not so little anymore) Aslan was neutered yesterday. Poor guy, didn’t even know what was coming.

(Which really, we still don’t really know what “was coming”. Everyday we look at each other and ask “What exactly do they do when they neuter?” I really need to spend some time on google.)

The vet had told me last week how he’ll need about two weeks to recover- no walking or running him, nor any playing in the house. He just needs to stay calm and heal up.

Naturally I had this vision of how he’d be groggy and sleepy- at least the first three days. (Shoot, I would be!) I had it all played out in my head- I’d come pick him up from the vet, and almost have to carry him to the car because of his excruciating pain.

Insert: “Poor buddy”.

Then he’d come home, go right to bed, and sleep…all day. I would nurse him back to health as I had some “me” time- clean, write, organize, call my friends, shop—things I hectically try to fit into my day between walking, feeding, playing with, and trying to calm Aslan down. Then the next day, he’d be a little more awake, and I’d give him a big treat- the biggest bone he’s ever had. I mean, the man deserves it right!?

A few days would go by in this same slow manner, when finally at the end of the allotted time, he’d start feeling like his perky self again and we’d be back in the swing of all the craziness that comes with having a puppy.

Reality check- this is Aslan Bethke. Hyper, excited, super friendly, nothing-fazes-me pup.

Right, forgot that.

I woke up early this morning to pick up our little bud, my heart melting with sympathy for him. I got the call from the vet, saying he’s ready to come home. Excitedly I jumped in my car and rushed to pick him up.

The vet welcomed me in and said, “Oh man, Aslan is excited to see you and so ready to come home!”

“How did it go yesterday?” I asked.

“Great. He woke up right away and was ready and rarin’ to go. I don’t think he realized he just got neutered. He’s the same Aslan.”

Pause. What?

“Aren’t they suppose to be super sedated after surgery?”

“Yes, they are. Most dogs are but there’s a few that come right back to life.”

Few. Right. Of course Aslan would be included in the “few”.

They took me into the room, explained his medication and the healing procedure as I waited to see him.

“It may be a rough week since he’s not suppose to play, jump, run or walk and is still his busy self. Bring him back in a week and we’ll see how he’s doing.”

Aslan pranced into the room- tail wagging, hips moving, tongue panting, and crowned with a cone around his head. Sweet thing. Nothing had changed really.

So here we are, “resting” at home. Aka—Aslan chomping down on the biggest bone of his life, occasionally smacking into things with the cone on his head, and loving everyone just as excitedly as he always does.

Yes. I love it. He’s a true Bethke. He loves people. Loves to play. And not much fazes him.

(Perhaps the Lord’s preparing me for children one day? Oye.)