Maybe…

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There’s an awful lot of moaning going on in my house this evening. The air is heavy with suffering. Today, i had to take all three dogs in to see the veterinarian. And, though each of them feels pretty strongly that their personal experience was the saddest and most difficult one of the day, I would argue that this wasn’t a walk in the park for me, either.

First, I didn’t sleep well. Vet visits are traumatic outings here and, of the four of us, I was the only one who knew it was coming. Then I overslept this morning, and had to rush around. I couldn’t get Rosa Parks to get out of the dog crate to get in the car, so I ended up closing her in, and carrying the crate out with her in it. Since she’s used to riding in my lap, not inside of a wire cage in the back seat, she whined all the way to town.

Blackie Chan needed to have his nails clipped, a rabies vaccine, a heartworm test, heartworm medicine, refills on all of his heart medicine, and the chewable flea and tick medicine. Darla needed a distemper vaccine, a heartworm test, heartworm medicine, a refill on her thyroid supplement, and the chewable flea and tick medicine. Rosa Parks was in desperate need of having her nails clipped, as a couple of them had grown around into the pads of her feet. She also needed a heartworm test, heartworm medicine, a refill on her allergy medicine, antibiotic to stave off infection in her poor toes, and the chewable flea and tick medicine. While there, we decided it was also time to have a large benign tumor removed, as it was interfering with her mobility.

So, I went in with three dogs, but went home with only two. I called work to inform them that I’d have to pick Rosa Parks up at 3:30, and that I wasn’t sure how she’d be. Dawn instantly told me that of course I should stay home with my little dog when I brought her home after surgery. Without hesitation, though it resulted in an extremely long day for her. With that worry resolved, I got around and got ready to go back to town. Whenever my dogs are stressed, they shed. After a trip to the vet, I’m so covered in pet hair, I need a shower and a fresh set of clothes! I got to town early enough to pick up a few groceries, and get to the post office and the bank before work.

Though it was a short shift at the Community Center, it was productive. They are so good to me there, I try hard to hold up my end. It feels good to get a project finished. Then, it was time to pick up Rosa Parks, pay my gigantic veterinary bill, and come home.

The evening has been filled with the whimpering and moaning of dogs. Rosa Parks is asleep under my desk. Blackie Chan thinks Rosa Parks is getting too much of my attention, especially after all he suffered through today. So, from the arm chair, he whines to let me know he needs some love, too. And he keeps it up until I stop what I’m doing to go and snuggle him. Then Darla moves in close to remind me of all the trauma she’s endured, and to let me know that a belly rub just might help. About that time, Rosa Parks realizes that I’m not right there in my desk chair, so she lets out a yelp to remind me that she’s in pain.

It has been a long, long day. Maybe, if the dogs are as exhausted and ready for sleep as I am, I just might make it. Maybe.

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About cindyricksgers

I am an artist. I live on an island in northern Lake Michigan, USA. I have two grown daughters, four strong, smart and handsome grandsons and one beautiful, intelligent and charming granddaughter. I live with two spoiled dogs. I love walking in the woods around my home, reading, writing and playing in my studio.

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