Skip to main content

Trudy's New Toy

After the monsoon of a week we had in Kansas City, Trudy was not happy. Her walks were shorter, there were no trips to the muddy dog park and in general, she was bouncing off the walls. Husband and I were desperate to tame the puppy energy. Enter the dog tow leash.

You know when you order something online and have these ridiculously high expectations? Then it's delivered and the results are just, well, meh? That was NOT the dog tow leash. This thing is awesome. Husband had Trudy hooked up in a flash and they were off doing laps through the neighborhood. She was literally trying to pull him up the hills. After 30 minutes, she was exhausted. We were giddy thinking we've found the quickest way to wear her out once the baby is here.

Saturday continued to be Trudy-focused when I morphed into the total overreacting dog owner. Dogs lick their butts. I'm well aware of this. However, Trudy was licking her business non-stop. After a couple hours of this, Husband and I are wondering what's up. Maybe she has a tick? No. Maybe this is some weird after-effect of the dog tow leash? Not likely.

Then I remember the groomer had emptied her anal glands earlier in the week. Maybe something's infected? Shit, it's Saturday. If she has an infection, we can't get her to the vet until Monday. She's going to lick her butt for the next 36 hours straight. This is not acceptable. You may see where this is going.

Husband, Trudy and I were emergency vet bound. If you've ever had the joy of visiting the emergency vet, you know you will pay 82 times what the regular vet would charge. I didn't care. Trudy needed medicine ASAP. I was sure of it.

We get to Mission Med Vet, sit in a room for 45 minutes and have the very kind ER vet explain that when Trudy was shaved with the clippers, the groomer nicked her on the butt. The equivalent of a hangnail. There were people there who's animals had been hit by vehicles, weeping in the waiting room, the vet promising to call them if there was any change.

Then there was me bringing in my dog for excessive butt licking.

Husband did a very good job of not making me feel like a complete moron. The vet was gracious in not charging us, seeing as Trudy was completely fine. I doubt the ER doctors will be so kind when I bring in Baby Saab for excessive thumb sucking. Husband suggested we try to limit ER visits to one per year. I couldn't promise, but said I'd try.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Zack, the Smiths and a Gift Card

I’ve lived in my house for three years. Apparently, some guy named Zack has also lived in my house for the past year. Or at least Bill and Annie Smith (not their real names) in Overland Park, Kansas think he lives at my address. They send him a lot of cards – thank you notes, just for fun cards and yesterday, I received Zack’s birthday card. Obviously for me to know what kind of cards they send, I open them. The first time I received one, I “Returned to Sender,” but not since then. They keep on coming and I keep on opening them. It’s like reality TV, but through the mail. I’m not proud of my actions and suspect it’s illegal for me to keep opening Zack’s mail. But now I’m genuinely interested in how he’s doing. Zack got a new job last fall (Attaboy card), gave the Smiths Big 12 Tournament tickets (thank you note), and he had a birthday this week. Until yesterday, there was nothing of value in the cards besides sweet sentiment. But in the birthday card there was a Pla...

The Softride Has Left The Building

Today I bid adieu to my first triathlon bike – a Softride Rocket TT named Sally. (“Ride, Sally, Ride...”) While technically still mine until the ebay auction ends tomorrow, she has been dropped off at the bike store for clean up and packing. We’ll ship her off to the new owner this weekend and that will be the end of my beam bike era. A Softride is considered old school in the triathlon world and is mocked mercilessly by roadies. Sally has a carbon beam, no down tube and 650 wheels – basically the low-rider Cadillac of bikes. While it doesn’t have a stiff suspension or a brag-worthy weight, it has one thing – comfort. This is something I desperately needed when training for my first Ironman. Sally raced at Kona in 2001 and Wisconsin in 2003. She was dependable and attention-getting. Like riding a motorcycle, Softride enthusiasts also offered the casual hand wave when you encountered another one on the road. However, there are fewer out there these days. The Softride...

Adding Some Color

I distinctly remember my first encounter with food coloring. It was love at first chemical-laden sight. Mom and I were icing sugar cookies. We'd made a bowl of white icing. Then she broke out the food coloring. I was memorized by the bright colors and giddy at the thought of mixing them. Like most six year olds, I believed more was better. So the icing started a lovely pink after a few drops of red. Next came lavender with some blue. Then Mom turned her back just long enough for me to reenact the movie Cocktail with food coloring. Every color was going in and hell with a few drops, more is better. This is fantastic, I thought, as I created a rainbow in the bowl. I stirred with glee until I realized the rainbow was disappearing. The icing was turning a disgusting shade of gray-brown. This was terrible. No one wants to eat icing that looks like poop. So you're thinking, nice little story Jen. Way to point out that more isn't necessarily better. But that's actually n...