Posted tagged ‘vet visit’

“An Easter bonnet can tame even the wildest hare. “

April 19, 2014

The day is lovely with a bright sun and a deep blue sky. The wind has disappeared. The temperature at 54˚ is the start of a heat wave. Time to break out the sandals.

I have a few errands today, and I made an appointment for Gracie at the vets. I first thought she had a stroke last night because she was dripping saliva from one side of her face as if she had no control. I checked but there seemed to be no visible difference between one side or the other. She ate her treats and begged for more and chewed on both sides. I wiped her jowls periodically and the dripping finally got less and less. By 2 this morning, she wasn’t dripping at all so we went to bed. Today she is perfectly fine, but I want her checked.

Just as my mother used to on the Saturday night before Easter, I’m going to put out the clothes I’ll be wearing tomorrow. I want to make sure they’re wrinkle free. Nothing is new but everything is so seldom worn they do have a newness about them. My dress material is filled with colorful flowers. It is spring personified.

We used to get excited knowing the Easter Bunny was coming, not so much for him as for his treats. It wasn’t the giddy excitement of Christmas Eve when we knew Santa was coming with a bagful of toys just for us. We really didn’t know all that much about the Easter Bunny. We knew he brought baskets filled with candy and small toys, but we didn’t know who helped. Santa had his elves. Who did the Easter Bunny have? We knew Santa summered at the North Pole. I had no idea where the Easter Bunny lived. I guessed a rabbit hole which must have been enormous, but I never really gave it a thought. We didn’t have to be good, no naughty or nice list. There were no threats. We knew Santa wouldn’t come if we were awake or if we were really bad, but the Easter Bunny came regardless. Instead of new pajamas, we got whole new outfits. We never questioned why a rabbit brought eggs or how he hauled all those baskets from house to house. On an Easter card I once received, the Easter Bunny was pulling a wagon filled with colorful eggs. He wore a small jacket with lots of gold buttons but didn’t wear pants. I just took the whole scene for granted. I believed everything about Santa so believing in the Easter Bunny wasn’t a stretch at all.

“To lose the approbation of my dog is a thing too horrible to contemplate.”

September 10, 2013

The weatherman said sunny and warm today, mid 70’s. Right now, though, it is damp, dark and chilly with a strong breeze. Later Gracie and I have to go to the dump, but that’s it for chores. At the vets yesterday, I found out Gracie has gingivitis. We knew she had gum issues but it hadn’t gotten to gingivitis before this. Now she is on antibiotics which only cost me $110.00. The other choice was surgery to cut away then cauterize the gums. Before my eyes flashed a bill well over a $1000 so I went with the lesser of two financial evils. The vet said Gracie is in good health and has plenty of energy. She got her ears cleaned and her nails cut as well. Despite being a crazy dog, she abides getting those done quite calmly. I think it always surprises the toe cutter.

When I was a kid, our dog was a boxer named Duke. The only shot he ever got was his rabies shot every couple of years. There were no well dog visits back then or heart worm treatments or Advantix against fleas. My father would douse him with flea powder periodically or give him a bath. He ate horse meat, a component of dog food back then. There were no natural or healthy foods for dogs. Leash laws didn’t exist back then either. Duke was a roamer, and he knew his way all over town. You might have heard this before, but it’s a great story worth retelling. Duke was uptown and found my grandmother. He followed her right into Woolworth’s and while inside he lifted his leg on the comic books. The manager wanted to know whose dog it was. My grandmother said not a word as Duke really wasn’t her dog, but when she left the store almost immediately, Duke followed, a dead giveaway, but my grandmother never looked back. She wasn’t an animal lover, and I can only imagine the embarrassment she felt. To the rest of us, it was just a funny dog story. Duke lived to be fifteen. He was a great dog, stubborn as they come but protective and loving.

I can’t imagine being without a dog. Gracie is always happy to see me. That boxer stub of a tail goes so fast back and forth it reminds me of helicopter rotors, and I half expect her back-end to go air-borne. Sometimes she puts her head on my arm, looks at me and gives me her please eyes, the look which says a treat would be nice. I seldom refuse. She and I are in constant battle for alpha dog. I always win, but she is never happy about it. She sits then talks back to me. There is no mistaking her tone, and it always makes me glad dogs don’t talk.