I just dropped little Lucy off at the vet this morning. There’s nothing like a good “rip your heart outta your fucking chest” moment with your morning coffee- it really gets the day going! See kids, that’s the kind of fun you can have at my house…… I will rescue you from a horrific circumstance, let you start to get all comfortable and feeling like you are finally loved, and safe. Then I will take you to a weird building, leave you there, and let them rip out a few teeth and your uterus. They wrote a book about me once. It was called “Mommy Dearest.”
I couldn’t, of course, feed her breakfast this morning pre-surgery, and I swear she looked up at me and said; “But I’ve gotten it every morning since I’ve been here. Don’t you love me anymore?” As I snuggled her and tried to explain that it’s for her own good, I heard her whisper “I knew it was too fucking good to be true.” Even Maggi was a little pissed at me when I left her behind. “Why the fuck does she get to go?”
Yes, that is correct, my dogs talk in my tilted and slightly pickled little world. Yours don’t? Wow, you got ripped off. (But try to get one that doesn’t swear as much as mine- it’s kind of embarrassing at parks and such.)
I will pick the wee one up after work and hope that she still likes me and doesn’t assume that this is what happens every week at our house. I can just see her shuddering on her dog bed thinking “What’s next? A leg? An ear? Fuck, I’m already missing an eye, and now some teeth and my babybaker, what the hell else do you psychos want?”
In a display of never before seen restraint, I will not call the vet every 7 minutes to she how she’s doing. I won’t demand to talk to her and wail “I’m sorry baby” through the phone to my unconscious dog. I won’t. (Just out of curiosity, does having my receptionist Karen call them repeatedly still count as obnoxious?) The upside of all of this is that she will no longer be stuck with affectionate pet names like “rotten mouth” “death breath” or “stinky face.” At least, I hope she won’t be. That’s worse than being named “Apple”.
**Update**
Lucy is resting comfortably, sans uterus, 6 teeth and a bucket load of built up, tarter and rot, and crap in her little mouth. (I wonder if she weighs less than 4lbs now?) Looks like the bill is only going to be about $750.00 which is almost $100 less than expected. I will spend that extra on booze. You know, in celebration and all…….
