Is there anything more traumatic than going to the vet?



MAX'S TEETH


His mouth hurts and he’s pissed off. You would be too if someone shoved you in a crate and trundled you off to the Vets to have your gums chopped into.

His upper right canine was broken off (not gone) and they had to dig out the leftover root. They pulled two teeth on the lower left side too. Poor Max.
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He’s not supposed to go out for a week, but neither one of us can handle that. When I let him out this morning I watched him as closely as I’d watched my four year old daughter walk to the neighbors alone for the first time. I think he was insulted but he did come back in half an hour. I left the back door open so he could return with some dignity. Then I gave us both some quiet time while I screwed up my courage to give him the medicine.

I talked to him when I set him down on the floor between my legs and squatted on his back. I had the plunger filled and ready by my right hand. Then I held his head with my left hand and tried to get the thing close enough to his mouth to squirt it in.

He growled that scary noise he makes when he’s ready to fight – clawed the carpet, and wrenched his head around trying to get lose. I talked louder and sat on him harder and tightened my hand on his head, but it was a good minute before I got anywhere near his lips.

We’d passed gentle by then, and I took a last flying shot at it, pushed the plunger and let him go. Most of it went into his mouth but there were a few pink drops on the rug where he’d shook his head disgustedly. He sat across the room from where I crouched and glared at me.

I felt so bad I coaxed him up onto my bed and apologized while I petted him. He may have forgiven me just a bit because he purred before he fell asleep. When he woke up from his nap he looked happier, so I let him out once more. The Vet would be having apoplexy.

But I know Max’ll be pissed off again tonight because I have to dose him again before I go to bed, and then twice a day for the next SIX days. How will we survive them?

I’ll have to keep sitting on him because he needs the penicillin to get well but I don’t relish the possibility of getting clawed or bit.

Poor Max, and now that I think of it, poor me. Let’s just hope we can both get through this with our friendship and my hands intact.

I hate going to the Vet.