QUOTE OF THE DAY (OR MORE): "No, no. You don't understand. This is an '89 Calico. I'm pretty sure that exceeds the Kelly Blue Book value. The cat's totaled." --A comedian whose name I forget talking about a vet who presents a $3,000 bill for a 12-year-old cat

Monday, June 29, 2009

2 boys for sale...


This morning I had to take Sophie to the vet.


This may sound like a piece-of-cake-kind-of-procedure. Put the dog in the car, drive the car to the vet, take the dog out of the car, and enter the veterinary clinic's waiting room.


The problem is... Sophie does not care for the vet, to put it euphemistically. She knows what happens behind those daunting walls. Further, she is fully capable of recognizing said veterinary building and going into full terror avoidance mode.


We had to go, however; her eyes have been emitting yellow-green goop for a few days, and they're all red and irritated looking.


I tried to fake her out this morning. "Hey Soph!" I crooned encouragingly. "Wanna go visit some friends?"


She poked both ears up, looked at me with her head cocked and stood up.


"Wanna get into the car, Soph? Fun! Fun!" I tried to psych her up for a positive experience.


She went and sat by the door.


"Comeon, Soph!" I coaxed in my most happy voice. "Let's go get in the car and see some friends!!"


She hopped into the car without further enticement. Off we went; as usual she lay down within 30 seconds for the car ride.


Then we arrived. Upon noticing that the car had stopped, she sat up, ears high into the air, taking in the scene. A look of dread fell upon her canine face.


Typically when I open the liftgate she tries to jump out as quickly as possible, usually excited by the forthcoming activity. I've been trying to train her to sit and wait for me to put on her leash. No problem today, though. I opened the liftgate, and she went and lay down as far from the opening to the car as possible and avoided my gaze. I did my best to mitigate her anxiety with my happy talk. "Hey, Soph! Look where we are! You have buddies inside! There are other doggies! Come on, Soph. fun! fun!"


No response.


"Come on, Soph. We hafta go inside." I snapped the leash onto her choker collar and tugged. She tucked her head into her hind region.


I put on my mean, alpha pack leader voice.


"Sophie, COME."


She reluctantly stood up, jumped out and tried to make a break for it toward the road. Her legs were shaking. She was panic-stricken. My readers all know that Sophie is a big German Shepherd, yes?


I managed to half drag her to the door, Sophie being torn between her instincts to obey and her utter loathing of the veterinary office.


Once inside, the staff greeted her enthusiastically (she's one of their favorites; it's understandable, if I do say so myself) and I continued my happy coaxing. She tried jumping up against the door to push her way out but I had her on the leash, alas. I did what I could to get her to settle down and sit, but she was full of terror at what these horrid people would do to her.


Finally an energetic young vet assistant opened the door to lead us to the treatment room. Sophie noticed the exit door, with which she is familiar as the WAY OUTTA HERE and began in earnest to convince me to go THAT direction.


After we arrived in the treatment room it took some ingenuity to get her onto the scale (61.5 pounds) and remain steady enough for an accurate reading. We waited longer than usual, during which time she paced back and forth and tried her best to explore every possibility for an exit. She finally settled in the corner beneath my chair, perhaps convinced that no one could see her under it.


The vet entered, chuckled at the oxymoronic state of my German Shepherd, and coddled her (we have awesome vets). She got Soph to relax enough for her to check out her eyes and put drops in them.


Honestly I had only noticed the problem in one of her eyes, but our shrewd veterinarian noticed similarities in the other eye.


The vet surmised that allergies are the likely culprit.


"Has anything changed in her surroundings?" the vet asked me.


"uh, no... Could she be allergic to the cat?" I joked. Turns out dogs can be allergic to cats. How funny is that?


"hmmm," I thought. "The kids are home from school... maybe she's allergic to the kids!?"


"Could be," the vet played along and laughed.


"Guess I'll have to get rid of the kids" I decided.

16 comments:

  1. 2 of my three cats go into full-panic mode when they hear the carrier come out of the attic.

    The third cat, the one that we joke must have been born in a paint factory, climbs inside of his own accord every.single.time. He actually forgets what happens when he does that.

    Thank goodness!

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  2. Poor Sophie. Oliver gets nervous at the vet too, but when he's nervous, he drools... EVERYWHERE!

    Hopefully the drops help, I know she doesn't want to go back anytime soon.

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  3. LMAO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ( as usual) you are too funny for words......

    Here's hoping you find a good home..... for the kids.....

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  4. No ma'am, I'm not in the market for any kids at the moment but have you tried Craigslist?

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  5. I think the reason animals are so afraid to go to the vet is that they're figuring one day, we're going to drag them in there and they'll have to undergo some kind of horrific medical procedure, such as dealing with the billing department.

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  6. our dearly departed "Trapper Dog" had the same reaction to the vet. As soon as I turned up the little country lane leading to the local vet he would crumble and start to tremble.

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  7. ha! how funny would that be?
    maybe it's the weather?

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  8. Wow! Wrestling a German Shepherd. What a great workout!

    NOT!

    Poor pup. Sorry about the kids but you knew they would leave the nest at some point.

    ;-)

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  9. Poor goopy doggy. I have never been to visit a vet, as I have no pets. But pediatricians, I hear, come pretty close, and my youngin's don't exactly beg to go there. I feel for ya, Sophie.

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  10. If getting rid of the kids avoids even ONE extra trip to the vet, it sounds like it may be worth it.

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  11. What a beautiful dog! We have three doggies, all different breeds with all different personalities - but not ONE likes the vet!! Cudoos to you for getting here there! And, yeah, I'd sell my boys too!! ;-)

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  12. I love my Shepherds, they are just the best dogs eveah! Mine is having the same thing with her eyes right now. I'm with ya on the keep the dog stance, they don't talk back...much!

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  13. Maddie always hated the car. As a result, the only times she really was in the car meant she was headed to the vet or the groomer. Neither was a real highlight for her. She would shake to the point of convulsions. I learned how to drive with her practically under the gas pedal. Good times. We will work on this with Daisy.

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  14. You know what would really suck? If he were allergic to DOGS.

    Imagine.

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  15. I hope the Soph got a treaty when she got home!

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