Fran’s Traumatic Vet Visit

Fran had to go to the vet today. On the canine perceived trauma scale of one to ten I’d say it was about a 6. She had been itching all night so we feared a flea infestation and god knows my marriage can only handle one of those per every ten years. So I took her to the office of doom as she sees it and we discover she is not covered in fleas but just having an allergic reaction to her new food. This is sad for two reasons, 1. She was totally digging the little soft meat chunks and I like to see her happy even though reason 2 sorta makes her an asshole…She was not selective in eating all the shapes in this brand. We had struggled to find a food in which all shapes, be them tan triangles, green balls or red octagons would be consumed and she wouldn’t be fishing through to only eat which ones she liked. So since it was just an allergic reaction the doctor gave her a steroid shot. She was decidedly gangster about the shot and though I could feel her little heart racing, she kept a brace face. She got a little more dramatic after the heart worm test and climbed into my arms and shunned the cute doctors attempts at petting her and talking to her. That’s when all the nervousness led to her anal glands secreting, filling the room with the all too familiar stench of a rotting fish carcass dipped in diarrhea. I swear when the doctor suggested he express them for her she whipped her little furry head around and looked at me like Please don’t let this happen mama!!! Help me!!! I was like sorry Fran sometimes you gotta get ur butthole checked and P.S you stink so it must be done. I’ll take you to maestros for a dog treat after. We got her back on the table and I restrained her from biting the doctor as he invaded her butthole, in between violent outbursts directed at the doctor she would sometimes pause and look me dead in the eyes with such acute sadness and betrayal I felt like the shittiest dog mom ever. When he was done she gave him the cold shoulder, which to be honest, any classy lady would do given the circumstances and then hid under the chair. I made good on my promise to get treats and I even took her to the bank to jump on people and get petted. And so here we had yet another dramatically traumatic visit to the vet and I so look forward to the next time seeing as her panic seems to increase with each visit. Poor Fran. Poor high maintenance, can’t eat just any old food, can’t drink unfiltered water, has to sleep on a pillow Fran…IMG_1302

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