Fighter
February 21, 2008
Our husky Bolleke hates going to the vet. Hates. It. But this month is dental month at our vet, so today we took all three animals in for cleanings. I’m utterly convinced that keeping their teeth clean is number three on extending a pet’s life (after high-quality food and adequate exercise), so the expense (about a grand after all is said and done) is totally worth is.
With Lola and Naboo, there’s no issue in going to the vet. Lola is a very polite and well-behaved dog and doesn’t freak out at the vet, and Naboo is always in a carrier, so they’re both simple.
Bolleke is a different matter, though. He hates being poked and prodded, especially from behind. He’s not a mean dog, and there are certain people that he’ll allow to hold his hips and hold his paws and move his legs and lift up his lips, but the vet is not one of them. He also gives very little warning when he’s going to bite. He just whips his head around and snaps his jaw, so he has to be muzzled any time he goes to the vet. We even have our own muzzle. (He’s never bitten anyone - he always stops short - but he’s demonstrated his speed a few times. And I’ve seen what his jaws can do to cow bones, so I have no doubt that if he decided to actually go for it, it would really, really suck.)
The last time we took him in for a dental cleaning, just a few months after we adopted him, the vet had to have me come into the operating room to settle him down enough to get the catheter in, even after they’d given him the pre-anesthetic sedative. So I expected to have to do that today as well. I sat with him in an examination room while the sedative took effect, then the tech came and got him. She felt like she’d do better without me in the room, and I understand that line of thinking; some dogs act up more in the presence of their owner.
So I stood in the waiting room listening to Bolleke growling and trying to howl and bark through his muzzle. I heard his nails clacking on the floor as he tried to get the muzzle off and tried to avoid the grasp of the tech. I heard one tech say to another “Man, he’d totally be trying to bite us if he wasn’t muzzled” and then exclaim in exasperation “GOSH!”.
All I could think of the whole time was that grainy footage you see on COPS when the blackout drunk starts throwing punches at the state troopers.
Now all the animals are home (no extractions! all had the lowest level of tartar expected! yay!). The cat is doing marvelously (the only indication that he was at the vet is the shaved patch on his leg), and Lola is doing pretty well. But Bolleke’s hips have been getting pretty weak over the last few months (he’s almost 15) and the anesthetic hasn’t worn off, so he’s making me think of that same blackout drunk, but now it’s morning and he wants to know why he can’t find his car keys. Poor doggie.
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