It all hit home today when I had to take Millie to the vet for her annual “hey it’s spring so now we have allergies to deal with!” visit. Millie’s her usual “moving through life at the speed of sound” with the added joy of licking and scratching her belly. I’m thinking it’s her usual grass allergy stuff and we’ll get a shot of an antibiotic and a steroid with pills to take for a week or so to get everything under control. Well, nope, not this time . . . it’s not really an allergy . . . it’s something like a staph infection. According to Lovely Vet, “her skin isn’t doing as good a job of dealing with certain types of bacteria.” Well poop . . . do I need to be worried about this? According to Lovely Vet “as they age, a dog’s immune system changes” . . .
Wait . . . what . . . but . . . oh yea . . . she’s going to be 11 in a couple of months . . . I guess that puts her in the Senior Citizen category . . . but she’s still living proof that “well, I don’t know, but I’ve been told . . . you never slow down, you never grow old” . . .
You know it’s gonna be bad when Millie is running to the door to tell on Rocky . . . when all the dogs in the neighborhood are barking their fool heads off and the dog that always has to be in the middle of everything is running to get ME . . .
As I put on Prince Charming’s yard shoes and walked out the back door to see what the commotion was all about I said to myself “Self, this is not gonna be good . . . ”
Yep, well shit . . . this is not good . . . as I came around the corner of the garage and walked toward the back gate I saw Rocky in a stand off with a stupid ground hog . . . make that a very pissed off ground hog. Well after I said a whole string of bad words (and throwing a shoe at the ground hog) I managed to get Rocky and Millie back toward the house.
I gave Rocky a quick once over and discovered a small puncture wound on his left ear lobe. Looks like Mama Groundhog got only one good bite in. That’s good. Except I can’t get the bleeding to stop. Well more bad words, and total panic that it might be too late to get Rocky to Lovely Vet’s office and I’ll have to make a trek to Expensive Emergency Clinic.
Quick phone call once I realize it’s not past closing time and off we go to Lovely Vet’s office. Where we are the last patient of the day . . .
Lovely Vet assured me that it wasn’t serious. Antibiotic shot, antibiotic pills, pain meds for a week and Rocky should be fine. Lovely Vet Tech does her best to get the bleeding to stop . . . they use surgical adhesive (super glue!) . . . they even wrapped his ear up in a bandage to keep him from shaking his head . . . he looked like a Russian Grandma. But nothing helped . . . so I have to keep an eye on him whenever he flips his ear.
He’s going to be fine. I’m going to be fine . . . eventually. He scared the crap out of me. I look like I’ve committed a murder. The poor vet’s office looked like it was a crime scene. Who knew an ear would bleed so much!!
Who knew my docile guy would have such a mean streak when it comes to little furry things coming into his yard!
Right now he’s sleeping peacefully at my feet . . . bless his heart . . . and Millie hasn’t left his side since we got back from the vet . . .
I’m doing the dishes. Millie comes into the kitchen to get a drink of water. Then walks to the back door to see what’s happening . . . she starts barking and wants out the back door RIGHT NOW . . . which brings Rocky into the kitchen to see what the fuss is and decides he wants out the back door RIGHT NOW as well . . . I’m thinking “WTF” as I go to open the back door and step out on the deck to see what the fuss is all about . . . and that’s when I notice The Burbs neighbor behind me has started the first bonfire of the season . . . and it’s so big that, yes you guessed it, it looks like my garage is on fire . . .
Apparently my two big barking dogs scared the crap out of The Burbs neighbor . . . he put out the bonfire and went back into his house . . .
At Rocky’s annual check-up earlier this month, Lovely Vet noticed that there was some serious plaque build up on his teeth and I might want to consider getting them cleaned. Mind you, the dog is 10 years old and has never had his teeth cleaned. In fact, in the over 30 years I’ve owned dogs, I’ve never had any of their teeth cleaned. I had noticed that he was a little extra cautious when taking treats and a little slower to eat the large Milkbone treats that Lovely Neighbor Mike gives Rocky and Millie every night. So, I got a quote on the cost and, after debating the pros and cons, made the appointment.
Today was the appointment . . . it involved making sure that Rocky (and Millie) didn’t eat or drink anything after midnight . . . which included NO BREAKFAST . . . then getting up early and dropping him off at Lovely Vet’s office by 8 a.m.
I decided to take the day off because I knew that the morning drop off was going to be a hot damn mess . . . and I was pleasantly surprised that it was not a hot damn mess . . . and because I wasn’t sure how Millie would do home alone all day if I took Rocky to the vet and didn’t bring him home until supper time . . . and because I knew I’d be a hot damn mess all day worrying about Rocky . . .
I was a hot damn mess . . .
Millie was a bit of a handful and was stuck like glue to me all day . . .
Rocky, I’m happy to report, did just fine. Didn’t mind not getting breakfast. Was happy to go on an adventure to Lovely Vet’s office because his Favorite Vet Tech would be taking care of him. He went off with Favorite Vet Tech for the procedure without even a glance back at me to say good-bye . . . Gotta admit . . . that kinda hurt . . . didn’t have to have any teeth pulled and the problems I noticed were just irritated gums from the plaque build up and a little bit of old age . . .
He “serenaded” the Vet Office with his lovely song all afternoon because he was done with all the excitement and just wanted to go home . . . I heard him while I was paying the bill and it was the most pitiful thing I’ve ever heard . . . poor guy . . .
Millie is happy he’s home . . .
I’m happy he’s home . . .
I’m glad that it’s over . . .
Right now he’s snuggled on his favorite bed in the living room happily snoring away . . .
I’m over the moon ecstatic for the good outcome . . . and I hope it’s a little while before I have to go through that again . . .
Poor puppies have been waiting all day for the snow. They’ve endured freezing rain and sleet all day. Now they’ve got the snow they’ve been waiting for . . . and some pretty wicked wind they don’t want.
It’s raining. It’s cold. It’s windy. And they want to be outside because they might miss Lovely Neighbor Mike and his nightly treats. But it’s raining, it’s cold, and it’s windy . . . and they don’t like being out in the cold, wind, and rain too much . . . so they’re running in and out every few minutes . . .
Which means I have to stop what I’m doing (cooking dinner) to dry them off and clean their feet . . . and then let them out again when they think they hear Lovely Neighbor Mike . . .
Once Lovely Neighbor Mike has given them their nightly treats, things settle down for a bit . . . until I go back into the kitchen to do the dishes . . . which means they are in the kitchen because, well, treats . . . I tell them to get out from under my feet . . . and they decide they need to go OUT . . .
Curse, swear, filth, foul . . .
Rocky doesn’t stay out long because, well, wind, rain, cold . . . and he has a short coat.
Millie, however, stays outside (and outside of my line of sight) just long enough for me to get concerned that she’s outside eating something she shouldn’t and expects me to call her inside. Well . . . Mommy got smart to Millie’s tricks and I turned off the porch light, turned off the kitchen light, and left the kitchen to go watch A Charlie Brown Christmas. Well, that lit a fire under Miss Millie and she “had” to be inside to see what I was doing. If she comes in on her own, that means she doesn’t get a cookie . . . for once her curiosity got the better of her and cost her . . . she’s still sulking over that one . . .
So please excuse me while I go watch my new guilty pleasure . . . The Christmas Baking show with that guy with the beautiful blue eyes . . .