I Ain’t Afraid Of No Vet
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By Sweetie
Herald K-9 Correspondent
I would like to make it very clear that I am not afraid of the vet. Fear is for squirrels and delivery drivers who refuse to explain themselves. I do not fear medical professionals.
What I object to is surprise management.
One minute, I was conducting my usual morning duties. The next, my human appeared with that cheerful voice she uses when she knows she is about to do something unpopular.
“Sweetie,” she said, “you have to go to the vet this morning.”
Have to.
That is a strong phrase to use with someone who has a full day planned.
There were windows to monitor. There were squirrels to supervise. There was porch activity that required my attention. There was the couch blanket, which had only recently been arranged to my exact specifications. There were naps to consider, and as I have explained many times, naps do not manage themselves.
But apparently none of this mattered, because someone had made an appointment without consulting me.
Clearly we have a failure to communicate in this house.
Now, to be fair, the people at the vet’s office are not the problem. I enjoy visiting Valley Vet with Dr. Royann Leflore and all the staff because they are kind, speak to me properly, and I have also been informed that they read my column, which shows excellent judgment on their part.
The staff gathers around and tells me how pretty I am. They compliment my manners. They seem pleased to see me. This is all appropriate.
Then, of course, the appointment begins, and standards begin to slip.
First, there is the scale.
I do not care for the scale.
I have never understood why humans are so interested in weight, especially since they are the ones handing out the snacks. I step onto the scale because I am cooperative, not because I support the practice. There is a difference.
After the weighing there is the checkup: blood work, teeth inspection, paw handling, and observations I have not requested. I allow this because I am composed. Also because my human requires supervision in medical settings, and I try to offer emotional support when necessary.
Then come the shots.
I am not saying I enjoy them. I am saying I handle them with the grace expected of someone in my position. I do not make a scene. I do not panic. I simply register, silently and with great dignity, that this is not how I would have chosen to spend my morning.
Fortunately, the vet’s office understands the importance of compensation.
They have treats.
I believe many situations in life could be improved if more people understood that inconvenience should be followed by a snack. A shot? Treat. A temperature check? Treat. A comment about my weight? Several treats and a written apology. On letterhead.
I do not make the rules. I simply know what is fair.
I return home with the quiet satisfaction of someone who has endured unnecessary disruption and handled it beautifully.
Of course, there is always recovery time.
After a medical appointment, a dog cannot be expected to simply resume normal duties at once. There must be a period of rest. There must be couch time. There must be extra attention. There should, ideally, be another treat.
My human may think the annual checkup is routine. It is not routine. It is a full interruption of household operations, a public appearance, a wellness audit, a weight discussion, a medical procedure, and a test of my patience.
I passed, obviously.
Now I must get back to my schedule.
The squirrels have had far too much unsupervised time.
