"Merci infiniment, ma jolie dame ... croque, croque."
It wasn't long before I was in the vet's torture chamber. I always jump on her table and she always laughs. I'm the only dog she knows that does that and it's made me famous. She said she tells everyone about the Boxer that hops on her table and they all think it's pretty hilarious. Actually, I'm in no hurry to be on her table, but it reminds me of the grooming table, which I love being on, so I get a little confused.
But it becomes all too clear very quickly. Within seconds, I'm a quivering mess. Sometimes it takes two technicians and Mama to hold me still.
Then the vet started poking around my paw. It's very hard to balance on three legs when you're shaking and rattling around.
She said it was a very deep cut but that it was already healing very well. Yeah, ok. So the exam's over, right?
Well, I no sooner got over that indignity and she stuck that glass thing up my butt. She didn't even ask me if it's ok. She just zipped it right in there, no questions asked. Then she looked at me like I was some sort of sillypuppy. She thought if she talks doggietalk to me and makes funny faces I was going to forget it's there. I don't think soooo.
When it was over, I hit the ground running but not before I checked to make sure she didn't accidentally leave it there. No way was I going home til I knew for sure.
Yup. It was gone. Whew.
Then it was time to get weighed. The vet left me on the scale for a couple of minutes and I was sure it was to make up for what she put me through.
But instead, she came back with a bottle of pills, some anticeptic, and the bill. Bah!
Well, I was finally on my way home. Before we left, though, Beverly was at her desk and she reached into the cookie bowl and gave me two for the road. You can see by my slobber that I enjoyed it very much!
I was sure glad that was over. I like my vet but I don't want to see her again for a very long time.