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After the pricker debacle, I was once again forced to suffer for no apparent reason.
The vet tech totally and completely violated me: anal glands, temperature, blood draw, the works. Comments were made about my incredibly full anal glands. What's with the attitude people?? If my anal glands are full, it's your fault for not taking care of the sit-che-ation, ya know!!
Once in the exam room, my ears were inspected. What was meant to be merely a routine ear check, turned out to be an ear swab, inspection, and diagnosis of an ear infection. Who knew?
I needed my bordatella too. That was an adventure in mis-behaving...
I could see the syringe coming towards me so I kept backing up, up, up. Eventually my (magnificent) tush was pressed up against the back wall. I had no where to go, I was doomed. So, I did what any resourceful pup would do - right before the syringe was emptied into my nose - ACHOO!!! A huge sneeze/exhale blew the vaccine all over Dr. Frye and the vet tech.
Laugh. It was funny. Go ahead....laugh.
Sadly, they caught on to my devious ways and not only kept my back-end pressed against the wall, but covered my eyes so I couldn't see the syringe coming. Next thing I knew - vaccinated!
Gah.
After that it was smooth sailing. I was given a clean bill of health (except for that pesky ear infection). My titers will be in in a few days, but I'm guessing I won't need any more vaccinations for awhile.
My exceptionally clean teeth, and handsome figure were also commented on.
Fortunately, Dr. Frye did not notice my funky looking ear trim. If she did notice, she was nice enough not to say anything.
It's tough maintaining this level of magnificence.
Loyal readers know that this means golfing with Dad and Trey.
All was well until the last hole. Dad and Trey looked over and saw me running to them, frantically pawing at my ears. As I got closer, Dad noticed that my ears were pinned on top of my head, giving me a 1960's Beehive 'do.
Turns out I had found the mother of all pricker bushes. Normally I run through 1 or 2 small pricker bushes, nothing that a few swipes of the Furminator can't solve. Today was different. These prickers stood true to their name: pricks.
They were the size of apples! My ears were pinned to the top of my head!! It was not a good look, and it kinda hurt a bit.
Dad and Trey did what they could. Dad pulled out his Swiss Army knife/key chain thing and did what had to be done... he started snipping away at the prickers. Tufts of my magnificent fur started falling around me.
Soon enough, one ear was free. Trey was working on the prickers attached to my body proper. Eventually the other ear was freed.
Dad took me home and gave me a bath and brush to rid me of the rest of the pricks, er prickers.
He told me not to look in the mirror, that it was "too soon".
I couldn't help it, I had to see what kind of a monster I had turned into.
I glanced at my reflection and immediately fell to the floor.
My ears! My magnificent ears!! They were nothing but tattered tufts of fur. The gentle layers and feathering that once defined my magnificent ears was gone. I was left with nothing but random chops and bizzare layers.
I sobbed. Dad offered to stay with me tonight, to console me. I waved my paw at him telling him to go, just go and let me suffer alone.
The lights are all off, and black towels have been thrown over all of the mirrors.
I have a vet appointment tomorrow - I hope there are not a lot of fellow pups in the waiting room, for I cannot stand to see my public looking the way I do....
I think I may have mentioned in the past that Mom is a total Doggie Whore.
She will find any opportunity she can to pet other dogs. You can bet your bippy that if she is gone for more than a few hours, she will probably come back smelling of another dog *gasp*.
Yesterday, Mom said she was visiting a friend who was having an open house for her crafty things. Mom has always envied The Crafty People (Bodhi's and Star's mom come to mind). Her Crafty Friend had lots of crafts and knick-knacks to look at, but once Mom saw Crafty Friend's 2 dogs, the crafts were forgotten.
Mom sat on the floor and spent the next 20 minutes playing with the little dogs. Apparently it is much "easier" to pet a dog who weighs 15 pounds versus 50 pounds... who knew?
When she came home, I sniffed her and immediately knew she had strayed. I thought she was going to look at crafts!!! I told her I was on to her and her ways, that the "craft open house" was just a ruse to pet other dogs.
She told me to calm down.
Oh. No. She. Dinnit!!
As soon as Dad came over, I ran up to him and started yelling, "Daaaaad!!! Mom was whoring around today! Smell her, you can tell!! She's a floozy! A floozy!!"
I stood back and waited for the repercussions.
Mom told Dad about the crafts and the small dogs. End of story.
What?!?
I expected Dad to be just a teensy bit more upset about his loose girlfriend.
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