I have determined that going to the vet isn’t the trauma that it’s often made out to be by pets much wimpier than I.
When I go to the vet, particularly for my annual physical, I come away filled with praise and a nonstop supply of treats. Other than the anal thermometer, what’s there to be nervous about?
When Mike and I went there the other day, I had the crucial weigh-in first. My new assistant Corrie put me on a scale recently installed in the lobby that I didn’t even have to step up onto; it was just flat with the floor. And after I finally planted my butt down, Corrie said, “18.1 pounds, even lower than last time.” Obviously, Mike is not feeding me enough frozen PBBs.
Then Dr. Kimmel came into the exam room and got things off on the right foot by referring to me as “the healthy one in the family.” She meant that my portly brothers Frank and Stanley, also her patients, continue to be plagued by skin problems. Hmmm. . .maybe the broth, eggs and yogurt that Mike mixes in with my kibble every day is having positive, probiotic effects on me, as Mike’s homemade pickles do for him and Heather. I just thought all that stuff he mixed in made the dry kibble taste better, which it does. But I digress.
Dr. Kimmel examined me head to toenail (had them clipped), and she dismissed as insignificant any of the little bumps on my otherwise perfect body that Mike dutifully pointed out to her. One of the bumps turned out to be my microchip, migrated from between my shoulder blades. No big deal, apparently. She also praised my weight and overall physical condition, but she gave her greatest accolades to my dental care. “Beautiful” and “awesome” are but two of her words describing my teeth and gums. On the chart she filled out and gave Mike, under Dental Score (mild to severe), she penciled in a new category below the lowest one the chart and circled it. In other words, my dental health lies in previously uncharted territory.
Mike was so happy about my behavior and my exam results that on the way out he scooped up a handful of the fancy organic treats they leave on the counter, and he gave me a steady supply of treats for the rest of the day. If this continues, that 18.1-pound mark might soon become yet another fond memory of my youth.