I have to pry him out of the back seat. Putting him on a leash... haha! Yeah right! I carry him into the Vet, with his claws digging into my shirt, making it seem like I am taking him to his doom. The ladies at the front Love Love my dog, as they should! He will not let me put him down, but Goobz will allow the ladies to pet him and love on him... from within the comfort of Mommy's arms, of course.
I always take him at the earliest appointment if possible because this way there are not any other animals in the office to bother Goobz or tempt him. I put him down on the floor and he sits right in front of the door, whining and making pitiful noises the whole time. He needs to be weighed before he can be taken into the exam room. The scale is this huge apparatus that looks like a treadmill on the floor. The dog/cat is supposed to just stand on the scale while it reads their weight. Every time, the ladies at the front think dog biscuits will persuade Goobz to willing step on the scale. Every time, Epic Failure. The biscuits are healthy and bland- Goobz wants the real thing. He completely ignores the biscuits, regardless of how many the lady puts on the floor. I laugh internally at this every time. :) I have to pick him up and place Goobz on the scale. Now, he and I are working on commands this summer. I have him at "Stay" for about 5-10 seconds, so I told the lady "you better do this fast because then he is off and running." Yay! It works! Now we can go into the exam room.
The technician/nurse who comes to get Goobz is male- uh oh! Goobz has a problem with males... He is not fond of them, unless you are Dylan or Kenneth Sumners, and then well, he loves you! This technician though, is neither of those people. And I tell the young man my dog really does not like males, and he gives me the whole "No worries. All animals love me.." spiel. O-KAY, we will see bout that. Once again, I carry Goobz into the exam room as the guy tries to sweet talk Goobz. Now, the doors into the exam room and then back into the treatment area of the clinic are those revolving/swing type doors. Now, why you put these in a clinic where animals who know how to use doors roam around is beyond me, but this clinic does. The technician tells me he is going to take Goobz back for bloodwork etc., and they will be back. I release Goobz, thinking the young man is going to take my dog, but the guy is too slow. Goobz is off the table on the floor and pushing through the revolving door back out into the main office/reception area in a manner of seconds!!!
Mayday! Mayday! Goobz is on the run!!! I sigh, very loudly and pointedly at the young man who I warned, and head out into the main area to corral Goobz. I can hear the young ladies at the front laughing at Goobz as they try to grab him... to no avail. I find him running in circles around the front desk with his tongue hanging out the side and his eyes wild and crazy. He sees me and comes hauling over to me, probably hoping Mommy will rescue him. Well, I do, but not in the way he wants. Oh, I forgot to mention there are loads of other people in the reception area by this point who are all laughing at Goobz. So embarrassing!!!
Back again into the exam room with the male technician. This time I hand Goobz off to this young man, making sure the guy has a firm grip on my dog. Goobz at this point is just stiff. He won't bend any of his legs, won't bend his body, refuses to look at either of us... typical child. Through the revolving doors into the treatment area they go. Whew, I think! That was fun... not. I barely sit down on the chair to wait, when I hear this huge CRASH! BANG! CLANG! coming from the treatment area. My heart sinks.... because I know what happened. I know... because a Mother knows (whether it be human or animal) when their child/dog is the cause of the noise/problem. I know the technician lost hold of my dog again, and Goobz is now running around the treatment area, crashing into trays and knocking stuff onto the floor in his mad attempt to get out. Sure enough, not 10 seconds later I hear a frantic "Goober! Come back here!"
At this, I start to laugh. I mean, what else am I going to do??? A small part of me feels sorry for the guy who cannot control my dog, but then I think- you get paid to handle animals. My dog weighs all of like 12 pounds... what is wrong with you?! Another larger part of me is thinking Yay Goobz!!! He is fast and smart- run buddy run!! And then another larger part of me is realizing, Goobz is your dog Megan. Everyone in this office will know he is crazy... great. This is is the 2nd time in a manner of 30 minutes Goobz has caused destruction and mayhem... Oy vey!
Goobz comes back in a while later in the arms of the Vet... who is a lady. Now, to say Goobz "likes" the Vet is strong language, but he does "tolerate" her. He stands nice and still for her, lets her pet him, etc. She finishes the exam, doing things the technician should have done, but can't because he cannot control Goobz. She declares Goobz fine and fit- yay for a healthy puppy!!! :)
A huge Vet bill later- major ugh!! I counted it up yesterday... a yearly visit for Goobz cost more than the dentist, the eye doctor, my contacts, the OBG visit and my medication all together.. for the year!!! That is just disgusting when you think about it!!!!! But, what can ya do?
As we are leaving, with Goobz once again in a death grip in my arms, the people in the office are laughing about all the "excitement" they have had this morning, and it is barely nine o'clock. So very glad Goobz and I could entertain everyone this morning.. oy vey!!! Back in the car, Goobz refuses to sit anywhere but in my lap. Thank goodness I don't drive a standard anymore.. hehe! But I don't blame him.. what a traumatic morning! We get home, and he hauls under the bed to hide. I let him, thinking if someone had given me shots in the butt, in the stomach, in the cheek and stuck cold metal objects up my rear end holes, I would be a basket case of tears, moans and groans.
Kuddos to my Goobz for trying to make a break! Kuddos to my guy for outsmarting the technician! Kuddos to my guy for being tough and enduring the exam!
"No one heard a single word he said. Should have seen it in his eyes, what was going round his head. Oooh, he's a little Runaway....."
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