Tuesday, July 8, 2008

The Dog Days of Summer

Yesterday, I had to take my dogs to the vet…again. This has been a particularly difficult year for my hypochondriac, high maintenance dogs.

I have two dogs, by the way. A 13 year old cocker spaniel, and an 8 year old Shepard/border collie (SBC) mix. The 8 year old in particular has multiple health problems, on which we have spent countless thousands…yes thousands of dollars.

This spring, after multiple trips to a worthless vet who took three months to diagnose her; after the dog had roughly 15 bald spots, one the size of a dinner plate; after we had collected a veritable pharmacopeia of ointments, sprays, pills and shampoos; after we had paid roughly $2,000 in vet bills; we found out the SBC had ringworm. Ringworm…a fairly common dog ailment that any veterinary school graduate should be able to recognize, the treatment for which, apparently, is 6 weeks of twice daily anti-fungal pills that cost a whopping $120 per dog (oh yes, by the time they finally diagnosed the problem, both dogs were afflicted).

In addition to the pills, the dogs were to have baths twice a week with a special, and expensive, fungus fighting shampoo which needed to stay on their skin for 10 minutes.

Have you ever washed a dog? They don't like it all that much. Try leaving the shit on for 10 minutes without them shaking it off, rubbing up against the grass, or trees, or you, to get the shampoo off. To prevent this, I wash them in the bathtub and close the shower doors on them to keep them corralled for the duration. This works fine, actually, but did I mention their hair was falling out? Dog hair, everywhere. I had to buy a special drain thingy to collect it all before it runs down the drain and we have to call a plummer.

So dog baths take about 15 minutes each, with the 10 minute soak and the rinse and all. For two dogs, make that a half hour. Then bathroom clean up took about another half hour a pop. That's an hour...twice a week devoted to dog bathing. Oh, and I forgot the brushing of the hair that is still there. Make that three hours a week devoted to dog bathing. Who has time for this?

Well now it's been a few months, and the SBC has developed new symptoms, so I schedule an appointment for them at a new vet…hopefully a competent vet, to see what the problem is now. I told CO the only appointment I could get was for 4:00pm yesterday afternoon.

CO goes to work at 6:00 am and gets off at 3:00 pm. I go to work at 8:00 (or 9:00 if I am so inclined) and get off at 5:00. These being the facts, anything that happens between 3:00 pm and 5:00 pm, are CO’s responsibility, and anything that happens between 6:00 am and 8:00 am are mine. Yes, I do realize I got the better end of this deal, but still.

So long about 3:15 yesterday, I was at a good place with my work, and decided to leave early to go help CO with the dogs, because the cocker spaniel is old and needs to be lifted into and out of cars, and the SBC weighs 90 pounds and is just unwieldy. It is hard to manage them both at the same time…especially at the vet! I think I’m doing him a big favor here. Good wife!

I get home around quarter of 4:00, and his truck is gone. I am impressed that he got out of there on time, and run into the house to quickly change from my suit so I can meet him at the vet’s office.

When I open the door, both dogs run to greet me. Uh-oh.

I call CO. “Where are you?”

“Driving…why?”

“The dogs are supposed to be at the vet. I came home to help you, but obviously you forgot.”

“Oh.” Oh, indeed.

Well he is a way away yet, but he will meet me at the vet, which means I have to get them both there by myself. No easy task.

I start searching for leashes. We keep them in a nightstand drawer in the guest room. I open the door to the room and remember CO has his car torn apart again. Why does this matter, you ask? Oh, because of the hood, dashboard, headlights and fenders in the guest room. There is no room in the garage you see. Yes, we are rednecks. Thank you.

I take off my shoes and try to crawl around stuff, without touching it in any way, to get to the nightstand. Eventually, I make it, only to find one leash is missing. I grab the one that is there and begin an all points bulletin for the missing leash. I find it under the patio furniture cushions, which is where everyone should keep their dog leashes…it is so handy and logical.

I get both dogs leashed up and head out the door. The cocker spaniel decides she needs to potty before she gets in the car. As she does this, I notice something on her, uhm, butt. It is what you might expect, but hope you will never see, on your dog’s butt.

Since the bout with the ringworm, our groomer will not give the cocker her much needed haircut, and well, her hair is too long. Especially around her butt, apparently. It now had poop caught in it.

I get the SBC in the car, and I turn on the hose. I am still wearing my suit, not having had time to change, what with the leash search and the car parts and all, so I carefully maneuver the dog and spray her bum with the water. She squeals and runs between my legs. My shoes are soaked. I feel the water, and it is burning hot from being baked in the hose all day. Ouch.

Now I have wet feet and guilt.

I wait for the water to cool off, but she is still trying to get away. I spray more water on myself than on her. Eventually, I get a good shot, but the poop isn’t coming off. I must go back inside and get a paper towel. I head for the door, catch my shoe in the tangled up dog leash, leave it for lost, and walk across the driveway with one shoe off.

When I get to the door, I realize it is locked, and my keys are in the car. I walk back across the now very hot driveway with one shoe off (payback for the hot water, no doubt). I retrieve both my keys and my shoe, leave the dog outside, and go get some paper towels. I wipe the poop off the dog’s butt (which was quite gross, I must say), throw the disgusting paper towels away, lock the house and go back for the dog, whose leash has become so tangled with the hose, I feel like I am trying to solve a Rubik’s Cube.

At long last, I get her untangled, find a towel in my trunk, and lay it on the back car seat next to the SBC who it trying to get back out of the car over my back. I attempt to heave the wet cocker spaniel into the back seat, wearing my suit and high heels of course, but halfway there she decides she doesn’t want to go and wiggles out of my arms, falling hard on the ground. She is 13…that is like 91 in dog years. She could break a hip doing that crap. I check to see that she is okay, and I try again, this time with success. Of course I am soaking wet.

Both dogs are officially in the car, and I am officially late, but we are on our way.

When I get to the vet, I look in the back seat to find the dry dog is lying comfortably on the towel, while the wet dog is on the seat. But of course.

I get out and no sign of CO yet, try to get the wet dog out of the car. She ain’t having it. The leash is now tangled around her body in some bizarre way, and I am faced with my second puzzle of the day. I am seriously about to cry at some point here, but I get it done, and get her out. The SBC jumps out, sees CO had pulled into the lot and is exiting his car, and takes off at a run before I can grab her leash, which is, of course, wrapped around my ankle. I trip, but don’t fall, but I do drop the cocker’s leash, and she takes off for Daddy as well. Luckily, he caught them with little effort.

We walk into the vet, and I am a wet, hairy mess in a suit, only to find their air conditioning is out. We sat there for over an hour.

The diagnosis is a skin infection this time, and in addition to the SBC’s twice daily thyroid pills she already takes, she needs to have twice daily antibiotics, twice daily omega fatty acids (which are measured out in a syringe…and gross), immune system boosters, a special brush, ear drops, ear cleanser, and even more special moisturizing shampoo.

And that entire adventure only cost me a total of $547.63.

It gives the whole “Beware of Dog” thing a whole new meaning, really.

3 comments:

Cullen said...

You are so Mr. (well, Mrs.) Bean. I can just imagine that as an episode.

Hope the doggies get better.

nightfly said...

Poor doggies... But your misadventure has a happy, albiet pricey, ending.

I had to laugh at the "Oh." Less than a year, and my poor wife is already well familiar with the "Oh." Or, in person, the scrunched wince of "Darn I forgot to remember that." Or the gaping, silent yelp: "That was TODAY?!?"

It'd be a simpler life for her if I was actually a dog.

Anonymous said...

Mrs. Bean....that is perfect.

I don't think I would have been very pleasant by the time I got to the vets.

Maybe you should find a vet that comes to your house. I know...impossible.