Sometimes he blows hot, sometimes he blows cold. We've had a vet visit where he walked in under his own power, played well with others and was the perfect pet. We've also had visits where I had to physically pick that 90 pound fighting piece of shit to get him through the door, then have to drag his growly ass across the lobby and into a room where I'm trapped with one thoroughly pissed off pit bull.
Then after giving me a few minutes to calm him down, the vet techs enter the room. They come in a team. They always come in a team. They know this dog. Each of them take their assigned positions and I grab that asshole dog Jack by the collar and bring him in tight to me while talking to him.
Here's where it goes one of two ways: One, the vet babes take full advantage of the moment and attack in unison, each of them popping him in the ass with a syringe. It's over in a flash, Jack never sees it coming, never feel the needles going in. No muss, no fuss. Jack's getting patted on the head and he doesn't know why.
Or Two..... something goes wrong. Maybe one of the vet techs moved into his field of view, maybe he heard one of them praying, maybe I was on his collar too tight, but just as they would go in for the shots, he'd buck and the fight was on. Fucking tables careening around the little room, Q-Tips everyfuckingwhere. I'll get the goddamned dog cornered and pinned and they give him shots and then he'll shake it off and be perfectly well behaved, acting like nothing ever happened.
It's like we'll be fighting and rassling around on the floor with him snarling away, some serious white trash shit going on here, right? and then they give him his shots and I let him go and say "Come on, Jack," and he says "Okay, man." and gets up like it's just every day shit. Okay, that's done, let's move on.
This trip..... Okay, there's a bit of a build-up here.
I've known he was due for about a month now but it's such a fight with him, it's something I dread as much as he does so I've been putting it off and putting it off which reminds me I need to just make that dump run and get it over with.
Anyway, I'm pretty stacked up the next week having only Monday or Thursday free and his rabies tag expires the following Friday, so I called Wednesday to see if I get him in sometime in the next couple weeks and get his shots. "Um, we can get him in tomorrow at 11:45."
Tomorrow??? Aw, hell no. I need time to contemplate, to steel myself, to gird my loins. There's strategy to work on and a plan of attack to develop. "Right on, 11:45 tomorrow. You don't have to sound so cheery about this, you know."
Laura laughed. "I'm on the other side of the counter, hon. I'm just a spectator."
Wednesday night was spent mostly in meditation and prayer as well as dabbling in some essential oils and shit.
So Thursday morning about eight I slipped that asshole dog Jack a doggie downer. By 11, it seemed like it was taking the edge off a little, although not nearly as much as I had hoped, so I loaded his ass up in the van about a half hour later and we hit the road.
Okay, the van was part of the strategy. He likes riding in the van more than he does the truck for some reason, plus the van has a sliding door on both sides as well as a large deck to rassle around in.
Last couple times I've taken the truck, I'll open the back door to get him out and he'll go to the far side and curl up in a ball, growling, and not his 'I wanna play' growl either. I'll slam that door and run to his side and he'll switch sides on me. At that point, I just reach in and drag his ass out which is not a good way to start a hopefully uneventful vet visit.
But with the van, I can climb in there with him through one door and then kinda push/nudge him out the other, right?
Then once I got there, the problem is getting him in the damned building. Last time, I just walked his ass back and forth in front of the building a few times and on the last pass at the entrance, I just snatched the door open and pushed his unsuspecting ass inside with my legs. I figured I'd give that a shot again - it had been a year, he'd probably forgotten about it.
We pulled into the place and Jack looked up and went 'Aw fuck'. I recited Psalm 91 verses 5-7, took a deep breath, got out all casual and shit like I always do when we're running errands, then I slid the side door open and climbed in. Another 'Aw fuck' look from Jack. I hit the button on the passenger side door and hustled Jack outside as the door was opening, me dead off on his heels holding his leash. Fuck yes. It actually worked. I closed the slider and locked the van with the fob and headed towards the building, Jack walking dejectedly beside me, seemingly resigned to his fate. Right on.
I was was on a roll here. That walking him back and forth bullshit just went out the window. I'm gonna walk that motherfucker right up to the door and see if he'll go in like a real dog.
I'll be damned if he didn't. We walked on up to the door, him even stopping while I opened it, then he walked in on my heels.
"Wow, that was weird," Laura said after I shut the door.
"Scary, huh?" and I walked over to the scales, pointed and snapped my fingers. Jack got on them and sat down.
"Daaaaamn....." she breathed.
Laura walked us to our room, Jack bumping into her and looking up hoping for a pet. Suckass. We're in the room just a couple minutes and the vet tech A-Team comes in, one who 'knows' Jack and the other, a new girl about 6 months preggers. Wonderful. Now I have 4 lives to worry about.
This is always the point where he gets real nervous, sedated or not, but other than a look of disdain, he didn't pay them much attention
"Hey ladies, how about if I sit on the floor in that corner and I'll get him on the floor in front of me with his head in my crotch, then you jab him in the butt?"
Okay, they both nodded in agreement as they started uncapping syringes. It's your balls.
"C'mere, partner" and he balked. "Calm your ass down, it's the rabies shot your getting, not covid. We're not trying to kill you." I got him where I wanted, told him to lay down, then grabbed his collar and pulled him to me so I could deliver some of those deep behind the ear scratches that almost paralyzes him. The girls seized the moment and in less than 5 seconds he got 3 jabs. I scratched his ears for a few seconds more and let him up.
Smiles abounded and Jack was getting doggie treats as fast as he could eat them.
As we were leaving, the pregnant babe turns to the other and says, "I gotta admit, it was kind of a let down."
So yeah, we go out to the lobby and I told Laura I'd be back in a second to settle up as soon as I put that asshole dog Jack in the van. I'm feeling good, bro. Everything went perfectly and I mean from start to finish. And then I opened the passenger rear door to put Jack in and see the driver's side rear door was standing wide open. I'd been in such a hurry to hustle Jack out the other side, I'd forgotten to shut the one I came through. It was standing wide open in front of the building the whole time. So much for a perfect operation.
After I got that asshole dog Jack back in the van, I turned on the AC so I could go back in and visit for a couple minutes while I paid my bill. I know Laura pretty good, she's the office manager plus she helps the counter girl scheduling clients, so she saw me at least once every couple of weeks as I was getting meds for Legal Lucy before she died.
"Looks like Jack finally decided to settle down," she said. "I bet that's a relief."
"That would be nice, huh?" I agreed.
She started laughing and told me she had the opportunity to take the day off but when she knew I was coming in the next day, she decided to come in for a half day just so she wouldn't miss the show.
