The dogs don’t much like going to the vet and the dogs’ erstwhile owners aren’t fond of it, either. However, some things you need to do. Routine shots are obvious: rabies shots are a legal requirement and I would make sure they had them anyway. Other things are more complicated.
Bonnie has an eye condition that comes and goes. Mostly it comes. Sometimes it goes. Regardless, it always comes back, eventually. I forget the official wording, but it boils down to chronic conjunctivitis caused by chronic dry eyes. She has had it intermittently in both of her eyes for years, now. Most of her life. I too have chronic dry eye which is why I can’t wear contact lenses. As Bonnie’s eyes go into their itching, red stage — especially this time of year when the pollen is high and rising — I am itching along with her. The pollen makes Garry’s eyes itch too, so eye drops are a thing around here.
Her eyes are always better in the winter. As soon as the air gets warmer and the floating pollen starts drifting around, Bonnie’s eyes get worse and this time, much worse. To add insult to injury, she has a skin tag on the bottom of the eyelid of the “bad” eye. Which I’m sure isn’t making her feel any better. It breaks open and bleeds a little once in a while, but then it goes right back to growing.
I want it gone. I don’t like the location. I don’t like the irritation it seems to be causing. If it were in MY eye, I know I’d want it gone. Since I think it’s time for another round of dental cleanup for Bonnie, I figured she’ll need anesthesia for the eye, we might as well do her teeth, too. We still need to do Gibbs’ teeth, but I can’t do it at the same time. Really, I can’t do any of it, but at some point, there’s no choice. You have to find a way to do important stuff.
Aside from getting a little fatter with each visit, Bonnie is a healthy girl.
“It’s the treats,” says the vet. Garry looks very uncomfortable and I shoot him a “look.” Because I keep telling him that our dogs will keep eating until they explode and it’s us that has to show control. He shuffled.
“This,” comments our vet, “Is a no-judgement zone. I see people like you going without things they need so the dogs get what they need, then I see people who have everything just ignoring their dogs.” We nod. We know. We’ve seen it too, close up and too personal for comfort. I comment I’d really like to get my own teeth done and the vet nods vigorously. Dentists are expensive.
The good news? Bonnie got all her blood tests in January, so she won’t need new ones. She fat, but fine.
We have to stop being bullied by the dogs. Three biscuits total between the two of us in the morning, then nothing until right before bed. Garry and I are not looking each other in the eye. Although we’ll try to not cheat, it’s tough. Our dogs are hysterical, frantic, wildly amusing beggars. If they weren’t so godawful hilarious, it would be a lot easier. Sometimes when I get up in the morning, it’s like a three-ring circus in the kitchen. They virtually dance on the high wire with umbrellas, all for a crunchy brown biscuit with no discernible flavor.
We took both dogs to the vet. Gibbs didn’t need to see anyone, but you can’t leave him alone with no dogs or people because he’ll freak out. He was not only good at the vet … and this folks, is a first … he fell in love with a lady in the waiting room. He just saw her and he lit up like a big birthday cake. He performed all his most adorable tricks for her. It was almost too cute for words.
He has never done that for anyone but Garry and I. A real first, probably in his life. Gibbs made friends with a stranger! One year and three months since he came to live with us — and finally, he broke through that “extra wall” rescue dogs have. And he did it in the least likely location — the office of the veterinarian. Go figure, right?