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Posts Tagged ‘Veterinarian’

I have to break away from the surgery saga for a bit (the final installment will be soon to come) due to yet another doggie medical visit today.  Actually, the problems started last night, but we didn’t get to the vet until today.   We sat down last night to dinner and about halfway through, Duchess decided to let us all see what she had eaten for lunch. Oh, and I need to mention that she decided to start this little escapade at 6:01 – one minute after the vet clinic closes.  She has impeccable timing.

There wasn’t much warning either.  One minute she’s laying at my feet at the table, and the next minute – BLOOOOOOORRRRRCHHHH!!!  Luckily, her head was positioned in the kitchen where there’s no carpet.  As I got up, she decided to take a little barf-o-riffic tour around the kitchen making sure to cover the entire floor with it. It was quite impressive – the Old Masters would’ve been jealous of her painting technique.

I threw away what was left of my bbq sandwich (just didn’t seem that appetizing anymore) and started the cleanup process.  The rest of the night was pretty uneventful until she went outside before bed.  That’s when she was stricken with the dreaded explodabutt as we like to call it.

She seemed to sleep pretty well until EARLY this morning when I was awakened by her getting sick again.  Gotta love mornings – the smell of dew on the grass, the birds chirping outside the window, and a giant dog beside your bed sounding like an ox giving birth.  Beautiful stuff… the things eloquent poetry is made of methinks.

I got up to let her out and the explodabutt was now about a zillion times worse, so we got ready to hit the clinic the moment they opened.  The doc checked her out and gave her a shot, some pills, and some special food to eat through the weekend.  Yet more things to go in our doggie pharmacy…

Whatever is in that shot makes her DRUNK obviously.  Once we got home, she began to act all goofy, get in the way more than usual, and try to hug me every time I turned around.  Hey, at least she’s a lovey dovey drunk I guess.

Cleaning out her crate was quite a chore with all this lovey dovey-ness going on.  There I am, halfway in the crate, scrubbing away with her hugging me, sticking her big shnoz in my face as if to say in an inebriated manner, “Joooo know how mush I nuuuv you!  Joooor da mossht beshtet owner I’ve eber had.”

Once the crate was clean it was off to wash her bed and the 40952835 towels she has in her crate.  Here’s the completely smashed Duchess helping me with the laundry in the utility room.  I think she’s ashamed and feeling no pain all at the same time.

After the drama had subsided and the lush finally had enough partying and passed out, I got to thinking – I haven’t seen Oliver in a long, long time.  Where in the world was that dog?  Jake was sticking around to monitor the situation, but the anti-social Corgi hadn’t been seen for quite some time.

I went searching for him and finally found him at the back of the house.  He was completely horrified by all of the barfiness and unladylike behavior of his younger sister.  He was under the bed, trying his hardest to block out the recent events – I can’t really blame him.

So now here I am, blogging about vomit and poop – listening to the dryer toil away at the plethora of wet towels and Duchess sleepily groaning on her bed.  Oliver the anti-social has rejoined us in the living room finally, and we’re all keeping our fingers crossed that the worst of this is behind us.  If not, maybe the vet could give me and the vampire wife some of those happy shots as well?

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If you followed my Twitter today (it’s on the sidebar on the right, or you can follow it directly at http://twitter.com/lifewithduchess ) then you know that Jake had to go to the vet today.  What’s a week without a vet visit anyway?  It’s kinda cool being the “Norm from Cheers” to the vet office anyway… not having to use your full name when you call, everyone there knows you – even the techs that work in the back, and you get a fancy VIP badge that you get to wear around the office and flash in the faces of the everyday Joe’s that are hanging out in the waiting room.

Those suckers.  Lackeys, slackers, ne’er do wells.  They’ll never know the glorious perks of the VIP backroom at the veterinarian’s office. The flowing champagne, the paparazzi… it’s a little much but I have to say I enjoy it.

Actually, I think it’s more like, “Oh, it’s THAT guy again.  The one with the crazy dogs that ALWAYS have something going on.”  Nevertheless, they always take excellent care of our pets and are wonderful people – every single person that works there.

So I know this post isn’t about Duchess – and it’s not about Great Danes, but it’s about the Golden Retriever that lives with her, so it kinda counts.  Kinda.

Last night Jake started scratching his ear and groaning a little bit.  This isn’t unusual.  Jake seems to get quite the enjoyment out of it.  Much like a scruffy guy getting out of bed likes to stretch, scratch around, and do his own bit of groaning as he greets the new day.  We didn’t think much of it.  Jake has taken up groaning ever since we brought Duchess home (she’s famous for groaning).  It’s kind of his new hobby… a new thing he’s trying out.

Well, I looked in his ear at bedtime and it was… gross.  I’m not posting a picture of it here because – well – it’s gross.  You might have just eaten or something, and then I’d be sued for Overabundance of Grossness, or something else lawyers come up with.  Just trust me, it was nasty.  All goopy and brown and junk.

It was decided he was going to the vet today.  I made the call this morning, just using my first name (thankyouverymuch) and his appointment was set for 3:00.  By the time I got home at lunch around 1:00 he was walking with his head all cockeyed like he was giving you the skunk eye, or the facial expression of, “Oh really?”.  I knew it was pretty serious by then.

A friend of ours has a cat that has permanent damage to her ear from a bad ear infection and now walks permanently with her head cocked like that.  It’s uber cute and she needs a home actually, so post here if you’re interested in giving her a loving home.  Let me rephrase – it’s uber cute on that cat… but not a new look that I’m going for with the dog.

I came to pick Jake up a little before his appointment and he knew something was up.  He’s old enough to know that when I call for just him and him alone, that there’s a bad moon on the rise.  He played coy.  “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you call my name because I have 5 pounds of gunk in my ear.  I’ll just lay here on my bed.  The vet you say?  Oh no no no… no thank you, I’m fine.”

I finally got him out of the bedroom and he quickly ran for the dog bed in the living room where he planted and was quickly regretting ever leaving the confines of the bedroom.  Here he is in full-on denial mode.

Notice the complete lack of eye contact?  Yeah, he’s trying to figure out every way possible to not get the leash on.  After much consoling and prodding, I finally got the leash on him and loaded him into the truck (to which he had to have “help” getting into… it’s funny how he doesn’t need any “help” when leaving the vet).

Here he is in the truck, looking out into the driveway plotting his escape.

Still no eye contact.  This is the last stage right before locking down and going into the complete shivers.  The “Oh my goodness they’retaking me to the vet and I’m gonna get poked and prodded or even worse LEFT behind NOOOOOOO!!!!!” stage.

You see, he has separation anxiety and being left at the vet is much akin to going “in the box” like in Cool Hand Luke (one of the greatest movies of all time by the way).  I really don’t see what the big deal is – maybe I should leave my VIP badge with him next time.

We got unloaded at the vet and here’s where he turns into the biggest. chicken. ever.  He puts his belly on the ground and starts flailing his legs trying to move in any direction (preferably towards the door) and acts like a general idiot.  (sorry there are no pics of this… trying to handle an inconsolable thrashing Golden Retriever is a little much)  Once he gets over his little tizzy, he then tries to crawl in your lap for protection.

Here he is trying to get in my lap, and me trying to keep him off of me since I’m wearing pretty much all black today.  Why oh why did I choose to wear black on the day I take Captain Insane-o to the vet?  *sigh*  I bet Johnny Cash didn’t have Goldens.  Oh, and notice the bald spot on the left side of his face?  That’s from his last visit a few weeks ago when he got a hotspot from us leaving him in the house while I got on the roof to take down Christmas lights.  Yeah.  Did I mention he’s INSANE?

The doc checked him out, cleaned up his ear, and checked the goop for bacteria.  Luckily no bacteria was found, just a yeast infection.  He said they get yeast infections from moisture getting in the ear or allergies.  We figure he must’ve gotten some snow in there from his romp a few days ago.

We got sent home with some medicine and cleanser for his ear that we need to do everyday – more medicine to add to the giant stockpile that we have for all sorts of doggie maladies.

At least he doesn’t fight it.  Apparently some dogs have big issues with you messing with their ears.  The doc said, “Man, he’s a great dog.  He’ll just sit there and let you do whatever you need to.”  I agree… Jake’s one of the best.

He also checked Jake’s eyes since they’re getting a little cloudy.  He said they weren’t cataracts (thank goodness) but just some natural aging, so that was a big relief.

So thanks doc for taking care of our dog (again) and here’s hoping we can go a few weeks without seeing you again.  If I could make one suggestion though – how bout some bacon wrapped shrimp for the VIP room?  I never get to eat enough bacon.

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