So, I’m at the vet waiting on medicine for one of my dogs (honesty, my two older dogs take more medication than my 90-year-old grandma) – can Obamacare be extended to pets?
Anyway, so I’m sitting across from this lady who was sniffling…clearly crying. The vet tech comes out and says, “Snickers is going to be fine. He has a kidney condition and you’ll just need to continue the medication and monitor him. Just give me a second and I’ll bring him out so you can go home.”
The woman, clearly releaved, said, “Oh…I just knew something was wrong. He was hardly opening his eyes and he seemed to be in so much pain. I will definitely keep a close watch on him…should I bring him in for a recheck?”
At which point the vet tech was back with Snickers…WHO WAS A HAMSTER!!!!!
A FREAKIN’ HAMSTER!!!!! With a kidney condition!!!!
What are they, like $10 a piece? Can you say cat food??? Get another damn hamster lady and call it a day!
Which brings me to the point of today’s blog…how much do we love our pets? I love my pets…but I do have my limits…
This is Murphy…my 11-year-old cockapoo with a perpetual gas problem. (We “adopted” her after my mom died…well actually, I think we agreed to watch her for a weekend when my dad went out of town and he just never took her back!) Anyway, Murphy’s farts notoriously clear a room and have come in quite handy when we need lingering guests to go the hell home…we just give her a few raw hide chew sticks a few hours before and then strategically place her under the coffee table when it’s time to call it a night then wait. Finally there’s a “ppppffffttttt…” and then viola…everyone goes home.
Murphy is unfortunately NOT the picture of health. She’s had a cancerous growth removed from her face, an enlarged heart, high liver enzymes, fatty tumors all over her body, Cushings disease and just recently…an ear hematoma that was surgically removed.
This is my other dog, Heidi…a 12-year-old Bichon, a.k.a “the great white ‘ho’!”
Heidi is a sweet dog with a penchant for rolling over on her back and peeing on herself when people go to pet her. She has a perpetual sinus condition that causes her to make a Felix Unger/goose honking noise whenever we go on a walk. Not surprisingly…she’s fat because no one except me wants to walk her and endure the embarrassment of all of the stares at the fat, honking dog who stops to crap or pee in every other yard.
Heidi is allergic to EVERYTHING…and when I say EVERYTHING…I truly mean everything and so requires special food and allergy shots. She has two ruptured discs in her neck and takes daily steriods and pain killers. If we choose to try to “fix” the disc problem…it’s $6,000 with no guarantees.
Double cha ching.
In a momentary lapse of reason, we got a third dog…Izzy – a 1-year-old maltipoo.
Izzy has a penchant for humping a stuffed cat twice her size and for chewing apart flip flops, makeup brushes and tampons.
Knock on wood…the only “problems” Izzy’s faced is the occasional dingleberry stuck in her fur.
Heidi is completely pissed about Izzy’s very existence. I’ve seen her (Heidi) lurking a little to close to the edge of the pool…likely contemplating suicide by drowning (she can’t swim as proven by the time to fell into the pool and proceeded to sink to the bottom.) Murph, on the other hand, seems to enjoy her.
We’re anticipating some tough decisions with the older two in months to come and in an economy like the one we find ourselves in and a daugther heading off to college, it makes it even more difficult.
How far will we be willing to go to keep them around? Chemotherapy? Back surgery? Hormone replacement?
After all, though we love them, they are dogs. I mean…at the end of the day, there is a pecking order and we do have priorities…kids in college, future weddings…
Lipo for Mama.