Ally is roaming our backyard, nose to the ground, as I sit under the floodlight at 5:30 a.m. I decided to bring the journal book out here while she “does her business,” as the euphemism goes. I’ll ride my bike when she’s done, rather than walk her this morning. She’ll miss all the sniffing, I know…
I took her to her first vet visit yesterday, dropping a cool $155 in the process. Learned she has an ear infection which I have to treat, with J’s help, as it involves pouring medicine into Ally’s ears and squishing it around for 45 seconds in each. The vet demonstrated the process, even shoving cotton balls down there and digging out some pretty nasty black “gunk,” as he called it. (Love that medical jargon.)
I am not looking forward to that bit.
Thankfully I won’t have to do the other thing he did, which involved a digital exam and expressing a scent gland. No thanks. Any dream I may have had of becoming a vet at any point in my life was dashed when he explained that one.
They remarked on how good Ally was the entire time, which made me proud. She was a good sport – even when they were probing her various orifices. She did have something to say (a quick “YIP!”) when the vet clipped a claw too close. Otherwise, she was a model patient, and I was very pleased with the care she received at the Manor Veterinary Hospital. The fact that it’s a half mile from my house is icing on the cake.
Being there reminded me of the vet in White Plains where we used to take our pets growing up. The handler there was a burly Scott named Jack who amused my mother to no end. When we’d take our dog Bo in for an appointment, he’d see him and say, in a thick highland brogue, “Acch, here he comes. Here comes ‘Crazy Legs’!” Unlike Ally, Bo did not stand idly by while they prodded and probed. He never bit; I think he knew they were there to help him, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for them.
END NOTE: By the way, Ally ended up charming me into giving her a walk before I left for work. How can I say no to those eyes, I ask you?
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