Bunny here at the keyboard, writing about a rather unsettling experience I had yesterday.
Most of you probably know that I am a certified therapy dog. The group that I work for requires me to send in my updated records every year, and this month my rabies shot was due. Since I don’t want to turn out to be some sort of Old Yeller story, I realize that it’s important, especially because I like to go out for a lot of adventures, too. I don’t want to be the casualty of some rabid skunk. The indignity would be more than I could bear. In any event, this all means that yesterday I had to go to visit the veterinarian’s office.
I should have been suspicious when Dad came home from work early and abducted me by myself in the Princessmobile. I mean, Mom drives the Princessmobile and she wasn’t there. Plus, Dad lured me out of the house alone without any of the other dogs. I was hoping that meant a special adventure. We went and picked Mom up at work, then drove up into town.
I didn’t realize we were going to the vet’s office until we pulled into the parking lot.
I admit that I tried to convince them that it might be more fun to go for a long walk instead of going inside, but they said we had to go in. So, I put on a stiff upper lip and walked in. They must have known I was canine royalty, because we didn’t have to wait in the lobby for long at all. They called us over, I stepped up on the scale and we went into the exam room. We hung out in there for a while, reading a book about Pooch Palaces. I started to hope that perhaps he would forget to come and get me, but no such luck.
Soon, they came to get me to go to the back room for my exam. Fortunately, they always let Mom and Dad come with me. This gives me the courage to get on the Elevator Table of Doom. I once fell off it when I was young, and I’ve never trusted it since then. To our surprise, when we went back to see my vet, we were greeted by his son, who is now a veterinarian, too. He was pretty nice to me, and clearly recognized that he was in the presence of royalty. He commented that I was the softest Greyhound he’d ever met and I’m pretty sure he was a bit sweet on me.
He gave me my shot like a pro and I barely felt it. He told Mom and Dad that I am a very healthy dog and in good shape, which I told them myself, but I guess it makes humans feel better to hear it from another human. Getting a shot wasn’t a great way to spend my alone time with my humans, but it wasn’t completely terrible.
However, after my exam, we went back to the exam room to collect our things. Mom had brought my roll up bed in and laid it on the floor for me to rest on while I was waiting for my exam. When we got back to the exam room, a cat was laying on Mom’s coat, and she had been laying on my bed before that. The stink sent my nose into overdrive. I told Mom that our things had to be washed immediately when we got home. She didn’t seem to take it too seriously.
I admit, I left the vet’s office with my nose slightly out of joint.
I may also have had a slight kink in my tail. Sure, they all make a big fuss over me and give me lots of attention, but I’m not sure that made up for being stuck with a giant needle and having a cat leaving her stink all over my possessions. I mean, really, even my human reeked of cat. I was thinking it might be a new low in my charmed life. The only way it could have been worse was if Dad made me ride in his hoop dee again.
Soon, I was able to leave the cat den of inequity behind and stretch out in comfort in the back seat of my preferred conveyance. Fortunately, my humans know how to treat me right. I do accept that getting shots is just a part of life to keep you healthy, and Mom did get the three year plan so I don’t have to go back for awhile. That made me feel a bit better about things. It also didn’t hurt that Mom and Dad stopped at McDonald’s on the way home for my favorite French cuisine.
I can forgive a lot for that, including insult and injury, and I did!