Both Ellie and Zack were in surgery, or at least preparing to go under the knife, as they say. My anxiety could be cut with a knife. I haven't felt these feelings for many years now; the last time was when my wife was having surgery. Of course, Ellie and Zack are my two Sheltie puppies , but I love my dogs, too. Ellie was being spayed ; Zack was being neutered . I was very sorry that they had to endure these procedures, but as responsible dog-owners, it is really the best. They are six months old now, and starting to mature. They knew something was up when breakfast was not immediately served. They kept staring at us as we had our morning coffee. Lexi, the mother of the puppies, was pawing at a jar of dog treats, but I was ignoring her. They were all hungry; I could feed Lexi and not feed the pups. She would need to wait. We have been taking them to the dog park about once a week, so when we loaded them in the car, they probably thought we were heading off for some fun. As we pulled into the veterinarian parking lot, their ears went down. They had been here many times before, and they don't like it. We usually have to drag them through the door or carry them. Children are no different when they come to my office. One mother told me that her two year old twins quickly recognized the waiting room and tried to escape by running in two different directions. A few months later, they recognized the parking lot and refuse to come out of the car. One day she was simply driving past our office and was startled by screams coming from the back seat. They were crying and pointing at our building. I had to go to work; it was my wife's day off, so she went back home. Lexi was visibly troubled because her puppies did not come back. She kept staring out of the windows. When she was outside, she was looking for them. She would not eat, which is highly unusual. All day long, she stayed at my wife's side like Velcro, wanting to be petted. Dogs get stressed, just like people. By noon, I got the word that their procedures were over and they were sleeping off the anesthesia. By 3 PM, my wife was able to pick them up. Lexi was elated. Zack immediately ate her untouched food. After a half-hour of sniffing the puppies, everything was back to normal, more or less. Zack apparently had one undescended or migratory testicle , so he had to have a bigger incision to find it. My guess is that the testicle tried, unsuccessfully, to escape. Males have an unusual reflex called the cremasteric reflex that causes nervous testicles to raise high in the scrotum, sometimes back up the inguinal canal. I see this frequently in my clinic when I am examining little boys. I did not know that dogs had the same reflex. I took off those lampshades ("halo collars"), but had to remain vigilant to make sure they were not pulling at their sutures. Zack, who has a reputation as a "licker", wore his for a while though. They were a bit subdued for the rest of the evening, but by the next day, it was like nothing had happened. Much to our chagrin, they were running through the house and jumping up on couches and beds. I have to admit, I had a lot of anxiety about subjecting these little dogs to surgery. I worried about them all day, just like a parent worrying about children or a spouse undergoing surgery. You try to remain busy, but in the back of your mind, all of those "what ifs" are swimming around. What if there is a complication from the anesthesia? What about post-operative infections? The subject of my undergraduate thesis, many years ago, was "Pre-operative Conditioning" - a project that I was doing to relieve stress for children scheduled for surgery. I would bring them in the day before their elective procedure, gown them up in OR attire (scrubs, mask, hat, and booties), and give them a tour of the operating room and recovery area. I explained how it would feel to experience anesthesia, and of course, how they would feel when they woke up. I made sure that the parent came into the recovery room before they woke up. I tried to prepare the parents, too. In my experience, parents tend to stress out more than the kids. Just this week, I had a dad faint on the floor while I was suturing his daughter (a few stitches on her face). This has happened so many times that we tend to watch for those telltale signs of impending syncope (fainting) , like not responding to conversation, that "far away" look, and of course, swaying. I will not let a parent sit on the rolling stool for this very reason. Mothers tend to do better, but fathers will faint or even vomit sometimes. About twenty years ago, I was suturing a child over the lunch hour. I did not have a nurse or medical assistant to help me. During the procedure, the father crashed to the floor, cutting his own head. As soon as I was finished with his son, I put a few stitches in him, too. One of the most common procedures done in our office is a newborn circumcision . Many new parents will NOT stay in the room, but chose to pace about in our waiting room. Personally, if they chose to snip off a piece of their son's penis, I think they should be there. Using a lidocaine block, these little boys do not really feel much beyond that first little stick of the needle. They happily suck on their "sugar tit" - a cotton ball soaked in sugar water and placed in a nipple, and zone out. Fathers, watching this procedure, will sort of bend forward, grimace on their faces, like someone kicked them in the groin. My youngest son, now an ER nurse, was doing some observation time in my office before applying for nursing school, and nearly fainted watching a circumcision. Remembering this embarrassing event, he chose not to attend his own son's circumcision (smart move). The medical profession needs to spend more time and effort preparing parents when their children have surgery. Even the brief procedure - infinitely safe - to insert tubes in a child's ears, will stress parents to know end. This is a quick and easy procedure; only about ten minutes or so, but it seems like hours of angst to nervous parents in the waiting room. When I examine a child who has evidence of extensive surgery, like a little boy a few months ago, showing me his chest scar from getting a new heart, I think about what the parents went through. Sure, he had a heart transplant, but the parents probably felt everything...in their own anxious hearts. I am so thankful that I never had to do experience this with our kids or grandchildren. Get the free WebMD Living Better Newsletter - wellness news to keep you healthy and strong.