Thirty Days of Deuce - Day 9

1/9/2018

I had a really quiet day today. I took my usual walks. Mom takes me before she goes to work, and
Dad goes with me during the day. Then when Mom gets home we go again before it gets dark. But hey! The days are getting longer!

Hmmm. Are my parents telling me the truth about that? I hear them saying the days are longer, but I don't think so. Twenty-four hours is twenty-four hours, if you know what I mean. 

Mom asked me if I remembered what I was doing two years ago. Um, no. I'm a smart dog but I don't keep my calendar. My secretary, er, Mom does that. Anyway, two years ago I hurt my paw and had to go to the vet. He squeezed this sore bump and guck came out. It hurt! 

I don't go to that vet now. Mom didn't like it he didn't spray any numbing agent on before he squeezed so hard.

It's a good thing Mom and Dad look out for me. Even on quiet days, it's good to be the pack. 

I was tricked!

I love my truck! The backseat space is all mine. I even have my own go-bag. When Mom and Dad ask if I want to go for a ride, I'm right there! They can't get my door open fast enough. Sometimes I even get to take a nap in my truck when we're not going anywhere. If I ask nicely enough, Mom will open my door and leave it open for me. I can jump in and out when I feel like it.

But last Tuesday evening, Mom tricked me.

She meant to do it, too. It was deliberate.

She asked me if I wanted to go for a ride so of course I said yes.

They took me to the vet for a shot. They KNOW I do not like needles.

I jumped right up into my spot and off we went. I didn't realize until we got there I was going to the vet. It was awful. There were a bunch of other dogs there and instead of getting to meet them, Mom and I had to sit in this little room. For the record, I have no plans to eat little hairy ugly dogs for a snack. I've never tasted a little dog, but I bet they're stringy. I bet they don't taste nearly as good as the freshly cooked chicken livers Mom has in the fridge for me.

The vet poked me with a needle, poked and pulled on my left hind leg again, and didn't even pet my head. And those Amazon girls made me get on the scales. I'm down to eighty-four pounds. I was up to eighty-seven a few months ago. I knew once the weather was better I'd be able to exercise and get svelte again.

I suppose I'll forgive Mom for tricking me. She's just trying to take good care of me and keeping my shots up-to-date helps keep me healthy. She's a good mom. 

I'm Deuce. Next time I hear the word 'ride', I'll be more careful. 

Parasites are a bad thing

I haven't been feeling well the last few days. Is droopy the same as lethargic? Mom has said I'm both. If droopy and lethargic mean I haven't had the energy to play much, then I understand. 

I don't really know when I started to feel bad. Mom's been hovering over me for a few days. She seems to have a sense about these things. She notices everything, too. Like I didn't feel like eating and drinking yesterday and I should have remembered she goes off the rails when I don't drink enough. 

Sure enough, she called the vet. I really hate it when she does that. I'll be bratty and stick my tongue out at her for that. 

I did not have a good time at the vet. The vet took my temperature. Would you like to guess how he did that? THEN, to add insult to injury, he used his finger to try to get a "sample." What the hell? A sample of WHAT? My saliva?

Following that indignity, the vet stuck me with a needle and sucked out my blood. My blood! I need that blood! So now Mom knows I don't have Lyme Disease or heartworm, but it seems I did pick up a nasty parasite somewhere. 

The vet checked my back and hips and said there were no overt problems. My teeth are good and I don't seem to have any blockages, just a... what the heck is a parasite, anyway? Mom needs to explain that a little better because this is uncharted territory for me. 

Anyway, the vet gave me a pain pill then injected fluid under my skin in four places. Mom says I'll be lumpy for awhile but they'll go away. I was given a metrona...metronidaz...metroledazi...  I'm just a Lab. I can't spell it or pronounce but it's supposed to kill the parasite. To help get my stomach back on track while I take the medicine, I get to take Pepcid and eat some special canned dog food. Mom said I cost her $362. Is that a lot of money? It's a good thing Mom loves me.

It's a good thing to get medicine when you need, but the downside is no Frisbee, no ball, no long walks - no nothing - until I've taken all the medicine. That's at least five days. Once I start to feel better, I'm going to be very bored. 

I'd try to talk Dad into playing, but Mom is watching him, too.