TheBanyanTree: Visiting the Vet

[auntiesash]

I am so glad that it was just fatty deposits.  We have a highly developed
ability to ignore those and now you can do so without any doubts in the
back of your head.

Her's a good girl.

(and so are you)

On Tue, Nov 1, 2011 at 2:11 PM, Monique Colver <monique.colver at gmail.com>wrote:

> I have an old dog. She's so old that every time she sneezes, or sighs, or
> looks at me just that way . . . which way could mean any of several things,
> like 1) give me an ice cube, 2) give me a snack, 3) let me out, 4) let me
> in, 5) rub my belly, 6) ouch, I panic and ask if she's okay. She finds this
> annoying so I've made an effort to not be so bothersome.
>
> Sunday I noticed a lump on her left side. She's never had lumps before. Her
> winter coat has arrived in all its glory, and it's thick and soft and thick
> and did I mention how thick it is? So thick that it's amazing we could tell
> anything was underneath there at all, including the dog herself. I myself
> am subject to lumps, the biggest one of which I have fondly named
> "stomach," because it is my stomach. But mostly my lumps are harmless. The
> dog is much older than me though, at least in dog years (and yet, when I
> first met her, she was much younger than me, which makes me question the
> nature of time) and so any unexpected issue calls for immediate attention.
>
> I was all set to be reclusive this week, since I spent the weekend sick and
> am making every attempt to recover, including taking vitamins and lounging.
> That, and my knee is wrecked, so I'm staying off of it now and then. But I
> made an appointment with the vet, and since Andrew's working today, I put
> Honey in the car to take her to the vet.
>
> Vets make her nervous. Vet offices freak her out. So it's always a good
> time. We sat in the waiting room, near the back door, away from the front
> desk. Of course, then she thinks she can leave, since the door is so
>  close, and she's not above shoving her way out. But I tell her to sit, and
> I pet her and tell her what a good dog she is. And she whines, and she
> cries, and it's as if we're at the entrance to hell and she's certain I'm
> going to throw her into the flames at any time.
>
> Other waiters compliment her on her astounding good looks, and to this she
> whines. I kiss her soft furry head and tell her she's a good dog, though
> she's not, but it doesn't really matter.
>
> When they call us in she goes hesitantly, thinking that perhaps it's
> another exit, but then we get into the room and both doors are closed and
> she turns to me and says, "It's a trick! I've been tricked again!" By again
> she means, when we left the house earlier I told her the two of us were
> going for a spa day.
>
> I can't believe she falls for that every time.
>
> Dr Eric has learned to check her out while she's on the floor. No more of
> that silly lifting her up onto the table. The slippery metal surface really
> freaks her out.
>
> I show him the lumps, and he finds another, and then they lead her out so
> they can stick a needle in and see what it looks like. I'm fairly certain
> it's nothing more than lumpy fat deposits, the kind of thing us old people
> get, but better safe than sorry I always say.
>
> When I'm not saying other things, that is.
>
> Honey came back shortly, none the worse for wear, and Dr Eric confirmed the
> best case scenario -- fat deposits. He told her what a good girl she was,
> because she was, she likes Dr Eric, he pets her and tells her how fabulous
> she looks, and we discussed her general state of health which is, even at
> her age, outstanding.
>
> We drove home, after I boosted her into the back seat. She's in great shape
> for someone her age, but she doesn't jump like she used to. But neither do
> I, so that's okay.
>
> Now she's napping, but me, I have to get to work.
>
> Monique
>



-- 
You are a fine person, Mr Baggins, and I am very fond of you;
    but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world after all!”

“Thank goodness!” said Bilbo laughing