Opera at the Vet Hospital

So, today was our first vet visit.

We had already taken her first Michigan poop for a fecal on Monday. To our surprise, she was "loaded with worms" according to the vet. This was not supposed to be, according to her adoption contract. Rox was started on Drontal Plus on Tuesday, a three dose protocol to get rid of the worms. Whipworms and hookworms - oy! Along with the three doses of meds over a three month period we are scooping her poops almost before they hit the ground (Bob loves this part). Dilute bleach water gets sprayed on the spot, and ......... this is the best part: we have to wipe her hiney after every "evacuation" (vet-speak... we just call 'em poops or boom-booms).

Today's visit was the new dog visit for baseline blood labs, eye check for her blind eye, nail trim (more on that later) and a kennel cough vaccine. She was impressing everyone with her roll-over-pet-my-belly routine. Charmed everyone except the kittens in the cage in the lobby... sigh....

Her right eyeball is shrinking, "normal" for post cat-scratch injury. She has a blink reflex but no tracking movements. So she is blind in the right eye. Left eye is good. Beautiful brown that goes to her beautiful soul. Since this presumably happened in her early years she has accommodated and doesn't really limit herself. She thinks she can see normally.

Blood drawing went easily and well. As a courtesy, they clipped her nails for us. Um. This is where the story gets interesting. She was a little wiggly, and I was rather unsettled so they took her in back to finish the nails. 3-4 minutes later we heard a blood-curdling scream from the back room. It was, of course, our little baby girl. Sure that the vet had ripped out her heart, I almost burst into tears, and had to walk up to the lobby. Dr. Putt, so shocked by the cry, sent someone immediately to tell us Roxie was OK. Uh huh.

Well, it turns out that our little angel might be..... a drama queen. Dr. Putt came out when done to say that there was not even any blood or cutting into the quick. Roxie just decided that she didn't want her nails done anymore. Bob is retired. He is doing all the vet visits from now on. My nerves can't stand it......

So ~ eyes, check; blood, done; nails, oh dear! done; fleas, negative; weight, lose 3 lbs; teeth, dental next year; ears, hairy!; sweet little hiney, wipe it.

Oh yes, the kittens. Seems there were three darling little kittens needing a home. They were in a cage on the floor, looking for all the world like little furry angels. Roxie looked, and sniffed, and looked closer. Then, geez louise, she grabbed the cage blanket in her teeth and tried to eat those precious little kitties. She dragged the cage about 2 feet. Bob says, "look! she's trying to get the kitties". I said (in the nicest, out-in-public-tone-of-voice I could) "get her out of here!"

I wonder if it is a guy thing? He's thinking proudly, "wow, look what a good hunter she is" and I'm thinking "shit, we'll have to find another vet if she eats those cats"....... Finally a cool head prevailed and I scooped her up and carried her to the front door. Ask Bob, he'll proudly relate her hunting prowess.........

And so the story ends. No one got eaten, Roxie got her treat and went to bed for a nap. Bob is at the gym, no doubt telling the person on the next treadmill what a brave hunting dog he has. And I'm already thinking of the next time we go back.