So my adopted daughter Pepper had her foot all in her ear on Friday. And while her foot is in her ear, she’s looking at me with this look as if to say “Man I wish I could get my foot further in my ear, but I’m having real trouble doing that right now.” This is when poppa’ is put on *bring Pepper to the vet* duty. This is not how I would usually prefer to spend my Saturdays, but a dad has to do daddy things. If Daddy didn’t Pepper’s ears will eventually resemble cornucopias, but instead of overflowing with natures goodness they will be overflowing with animal nasties!
Onto the vet we go. Pepper, like many of us, is not a fan of being put into a little black bag. I’m sure she appreciates the vents and see-through mesh, but a bag is still a bag no matter how you decorate it. Pepper was crying up a storm, making rude gestures at me every time I looked in the bag, and not enjoying the process of walking 10 blocks under by unwashed arm.
Veterinary Hospitals are strange places. On one hand you have very serious sick animals and on the other you have the cutest little fuzzy faces ever. The feeling is like doing your taxes in a petting zoo, although you know you shouldn’t be enjoying it, you kind of are anyway. Boston terrier puppies, shaggy explosions of fur, kittens, a hound-dog wearing a cone; you name it, it was sitting patiently waiting for the alternative lifestyle doctors to see it. Very well behaved I might add.
Veterinary clinics are definitely different than hospitals. In a hospital you wouldn’t expect your doctors to wear puppy-print smocks, or have lavender highlights in her hair, but at the vets, it’s cool. Cause’ the pet’s don’t care and the parent’s don’t have a clue what’s going on. Do I call them doctor? Have they even gone to college for this? How often do people bring their fish I wonder?
Turns out pep has an inner-ear infection and is requires to have a few drops of medicine squirted in her ears once a day. When the doctor said it I thought “Well, that sounds very reasonable” I wasn’t thinking of course that the minute I tried to get near pepper with the drops she would hide under the couch until I had gone. “This is not helping matters pepper!” I would shout, but she only looked at me with the face she reserves for anytime I make a request at her.
In hindsight I really shouldn’t have fed Pepper the night before the vet. Sure it seemed like a well-natured idea at the time, but now looking back at the situation that could have been averted, I realize that it was stupid. Pep pooped in the bag on the way home. It was very stinky and not particularly enjoyable for either of us. Hopefully pep is feeling better now… hopefully for both of us.
2 replies on “Trip to the Vet”
Are you actually saying that my child’s poop smells? Absurd.
Sunny says: Vets suck!
Mommy says: Yeah, and what? Get your ass in the carrier.