Remember when I wrote about George's allergies and how he scratches himself non-stop? And how we paid a bloody fortune for shots they swore would cure him? Yeah...well, they didn't. He has been in extreme discomfort since November, right around the time I was too pregnant to even care to address the issue.
I'm ashamed to admit that I just barely addressed the issue yesterday. It had been an awful day in every way possible and for some reason, I felt determined to take care of it amongst everything else going on. Mistake? Probably. I was a bit frazzled and it showed.
I could hardly handle the idea of taking my hyperactive dog in by myself before. He gets so excited that he practically drags me across the disease infested floor. Add a baby to that equation and picture the definition of disfunctional.
Getting the screaming baby out of the car and into the baby bjorn (I need like 4 hands for that!) while yelling at George to remain in the car probably tipped the staff off that I "had my hands full." The receptionists gave me disapproving looks as I sat in the waiting room. Excuse me if I didn't treat my dog with any respect!
The doctor came in right away, full of excitement to see George. Of course George was more than thrilled to see him too. And naturally, I looked as if I couldn't care less about my canine....because thats the truth and I did a horrible job at holding back my feelings. (Is there such thing as post-partum depression for dog owners?)
He asked what symptoms George was experiencing. I responded with "He is scratching himself and driving me crazy. He is hyper and annoying and driving me crazy. He scratches himself 24-7, it wakes me up and its driving me crazy." Where was my filter?! I quickly realized I better just let him ask me specific questions, as I'd made it VERY clear that my fluffy white dog had gotten the best of me.
The verdict? Still allergies...another $100, shoot me.
As the doctor walked us out, he tried to make me feel better about neglecting my dog by explaining that I did indeed "have my hands full." He then smugly asked, "how is George doing with the new addition." I giggled at the thought that this appointment was about George's well-being, not mine. Seriously? I responded with "he isn't taking it very well. He insists on being by my side every second, even when I'm nursing...and yes, its driving me crazy."
The sweet vet assured me that its quite normal and that they even have a handout for that. He took me to the front and shuffled around some handouts until he found the one he was looking for: "Fido was First"
Thank you, Dr. Arnold. You totally made my day.
2 Words from the Wise:
I'm sorry George isn't feeling well ... However, I enjoyed this post a lot so I'm also hoping for another vet visit for kicks and giggles. Haha. Good luck. We hope to see you guys soon!
Yes, there is post pardum depression for dogs. I want to kill my dogs even more after having Eli. Mainly because they have chewed 90% of his toys but also because they annoy me to death. George is lucky that you are so good to him. I'm praying our dogs catch some disease that costs a lot of money to cure so we can put them down.
Aren't I just the Debbie Downer today?
Post a Comment