Even though she was talking in hushed tones, I knew that Doc was on the phone, making an appointment for me to see the Vet. A few days later, when we woke from our afternoon nap, Doc called for me to get into the car. I just thought we were going for a joy ride until I noticed that she was turning into the driveway of the veterinarians office.
Now don’t get me wrong, for the most part I like it there. The vet. techs are always so happy to see me. They give me treats, rub my belly and tell me how good I am. Who wouldn’t like that? I’m even happy to go into the exam room. The part I hate is when that door opens and the doctor with the white coat comes in. I know there are needles involved and a possible rectal exam. She is a nice doctor, I just don’t like the stuff she does. When I see her I try to make myself small and that is no easy feet for an 84 pound dog. I cross the room and try to hide behind Doc so she can’t see me. No such luck.
Today I have some blood drawn to check for heartworms, get a shot so I don’t get kennel cough from other dogs and then get a physical exam. I was glad when it was over and thought we were going home when the doctor says, “Grover has a fat pocket under his belly, he needs to loose weight.” How rude to be fat shamed in front of everyone. Then I hear Doc say the unthinkable ” no more treats until he looses four pounds.” What? All I ate was some bacon, birthday cake, extra treats and any other food I could manipulate humans into giving me. I protest, but in vain. Doc is stubborn and sticks to her guns even when I whine. She even has the nerve to cut off my food sources at work by telling everyone. Well, it’s not over. I will give it some thought and figure out a way around all of this, so stay tuned.