If only you could have heard the chorus of whimpers and near howls from my three crybabies today! i'm not sure if my ears or my credit card paid more dearly. Lord knows that a nap for all was necessary to recover after this adventure concluded....
You'd think a dog would be excited to see a leash and harness, but my Freckles is soooo spoiled that he sulked the entire time he wore it and refused to come when I called him. He actually ran to hide when he spotted me harnessing Snoopy. I had to laugh, as I'd already tricked Blue (my grey "panther") into a carrier and Snoopy was pouting in the kennel (leash attached.)
I decided to put my scowling kitty in the rear floorboard, and went in to get the doxies. I don't know how they knew that this was no trip to the park. I practically had to drag them out. With Snoopy in one hand, Freckles made a furtive dash for freedom. What a little nerd!
Suddenly, they were off and running. I was tangled in their leashes before we got out the door. This made locking the door a bit more complicted than usual. For once, Snoopy was minding better the Freckles. My little adventurer hopped straight over disgruntled kitty into the back seat. Nerdie-poo was making one last effort to run, run, run. I had to haul him in, pick him up, and firmly place his fluffy behind next to his best pal.
Finally, I made it into the car. Snoopy hopped into the front seat with the intent of climbing in my lap, and let a few very fake whimpers out when I told him no. Freckles had just decided to join us, and decided to cower in the passenger seat as ol' Snoops hopped up to the window to take a look at the world whizzing past. Despite the 90 degree heat I rolled the window down a bit. For added safety on his behalf, I locked the window and kept his leash around my wrist. Even at a speed of 30 to 40 mph, givig hime the freedom of the controls on the door seemed a bit much.
Once on our country highway and a speed of 55 mph, Blue started a chorus of protest in earnest with a wailing, "MEEEEEOOOOOOO!" (Sounded more like NO! than meow.) Snoopy immediately forgot his tail wagging & sightseeing. Freckles lowered himself as low into the seat as physics would allow. (He'd been panting for at least two minutes at this point.) Within 30 seconds all three were practically howling! You would have thought we were off to the Humane Society or something! Had it been safe, I would have had to call someone else to listen, cuz it was too insane not to share. Within a few miles, Snoopy returned to his perch at the window, and all gave up their version of Jailhouse Rock.
Once at the vet, the dogs were ready to run for it. However, the scent of countless other animals who'd visited in the past overwhelmed their hound dog noses. I managed to keep from completely getting tangled in leashes as we made our way inside. A receptionist took charge of the doxies so I could fetch kitty. A surprised painter looked up from the outside post he was touching up to exclaim, "Another one?!" as we returned to the vet entrance.
Now I had a singular moment of peace as I took a seat on a bench in the waiting room. It was a New York minute, because the moment another pooch entered both of my dogs decided to bark as if the security of the nation was at stake. It was all you could hear, a cacophony of dachshund woofs and my protesting in vain. Freckles took a momentary pause when I plucked him from the floor. At that moment a vet assistant appeared to ask if we'd like to go into a room. Thank the Lord!
Not to be silenced, my pooches continued to reign a chorus of loud barks at the door. Once released from their leashes, all bravado was gone. Both frantically dove under the chair I had crouched by in my efforts to calm them down. Meanwhile, the cat remained as quiet as he could be in the carrier. I believe he was sure to be forgotten amidst the chaos.
My dogs quickly made friends with the vet assistants who came in to weight them and prepare for Dr. Martin. When not being held they ran about the room as if determined to find a crack in the wall.
Now one must understand that my pets are as accident prone as I am. They get the best food, and regular medical care. They also seem to love trouble. My "panther" actually had to have refills of liquid, tuna-scented antibiotics fed to him for a while after trying to take on at least one country raccoon. He's also a bionic kitty, having recieved titanium joints in his rear legs after an accident when he was about a year old. He's spent at least 3 months of his life in quarantine as wounds of one sort of another have healed.
Eight months ago, Freckles' bravado earned him a slit throat after a close encounter of the fangs of our neighbors pit bull. He was lucky it was the fence and not the dog who got him that day. He collided with the wire fence as he dodged those teeth, and began to bleed as if attacked by a vampire. That resulted in several stitches and a preposterous looking neck brace for the brainiac.
Two months later, an early January trip to Jacksonville was curtailled when Snoopy got a away from my pet-sitting father-in-law on a walk. The man is a sweet one, but age has slowed his reflexes. Snoop dog decided to avenge Freckles, ran towards the four-legged fiends that were snarling from the neighbor's yard. Leash fell from John's arms, pit bulls charged, and somehow (thank God!) our 10 pound adventurer got out without any major internal injuries. The skin was ripped half way off his back in the process. It took two months of repeated vet visits, wound cleansing, re-suturing, rolls of ace bandages and several altered onesies (holes for weenie and tail) to recover from that endeavor.
A week after his Franken-puppy makeover I had my mother-in-law's backing as I oversaw the creation of a long overdue fencig in of the back yard. Walks in our neighborhood ceased for the pups at that point. Life was less eventful for my pets for a while.
Ah, yes, we were discussing the vet visit. It took over an hour to weigh animals, give them each the appropriate shots and examinations, and to discuss the merits of which vaccines and flea meds were most appropriate for my rascals. The cat lost about a pound in shedded fur, and resembled a hissing viper during his turn onto the table. He was not pleased that his ploy to remain invisible failed. Snoopy never once stopped wagging his tail, even when yelping at the pinch of a needle or the snap of nail clippers. Freckles, punctuating the air with an occasional bark, seemed stuck in his woe-is-me crouch the entire time!
I have to admit that by the time we made it back to the receptionist, the cost of this adventure was not high on my priority list. It hurt, but I was ready to go home! (I'd also worked quite an appetite.) A cheerful vet assistant held onto my pups as I watched the receptionist add up an office visit, exam charges, an untold number of vaccines, rabies tags, heartworm pills, flea preventatives, and a spray to help heal self-inflicted doggy wounds caused by scratching in a misquito-filled country marsh neighborhood in a normal muggy June in Georgia. Had I offered her my check card, we would have had to visit a food bank by month's end. Thank heaven's for Visa! (Have I mentioned that my self-imposed limit on credit card spending got gulped up in one simple swipe and, "Sign here?)
I don't remember much of the trip home, save for Snoopy's newfound fascination with the vents feeding air conditioned air onto his intently gazing face. The other two were either pouting or asleep in the back seat. Freckles pouted for the rest of the afternoon.
I took a long nap, and awoke to find both piebalds asleep next to me later that day. At least we don't have to do that for another year. I'll have to add the cost of babysitter to the bill next year.....(Grimace....)
1 month ago
