On Tuesday Mom took me to Dr. Patricia's office to have my teeth cleaned. I had a bunch of tartar on my teeth, and that's why I had to get them cleaned.
Okay, well, that wouldn't have been a big deal because I've had it done before, and it's not so bad unless you have to have a tooth pulled. But that never happened to me yet, although it happened to Barry and to Trixie. So I was just going to get my teeth cleaned, and Mom also mentioned that I had a little tiny cyst thing that Dr. Patricia wanted to check out by sticking a needle in it. But I've had that kind of thing done before, too, so I wasn't worried about it.
Well, guess what! Dr. Patricia decided that my cyst should be totally cut out of my skin, and while she was at it, she found two other cysts that she thought should be cut out, too. One of those cysts has been there for several years, and nobody ever wanted to take it out before. But Dr. Patricia believes in No Cyst Left Behind, which I think is some kind of religion they teach in veterinary school. So while a poor, defenseless dog or cat is under anesthesia, she takes advantage of the situation and gets very handy with her scalpel.
So when I woke up, I had stitches all over my back and side. Mom says I look kind of like Frankenstein. And to add insult to injury, I have to wear that annoying basket muzzle thing so that I won't lick my incisions or chew on the stitches. Sheesh. What kind of life is that for a dog?
Oh, and then Mom kept taking photos of me, even though I would have preferred to just be left alone. But she said if I wanted to write in Piper's blog, I would need some pictures to use so that people could see that I am not exaggerating and that I really do deserve some sympathy.
The only good thing about this surgery business is that I don't have to go to physical therapy today. Piper will just have to go by herself. Maybe in a couple of weeks, I can go back again.
Well, that's all I have to say about me, but I guess I should mention that it's Mom's birthday today. She's pretty old -- 58 to be exact. In dog years, this is 406, which is the kind of big number that really blows my mind! Anyway, April 15 is an important day for several reasons:
1. It's income tax day.
2. It's the anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic.
3. It's the anniversary of the day that President Lincoln died.
4. It's MOM'S BIRTHDAY!
So I guess we had better be extra nice to Mom today, but frankly, after she betrayed me by taking me to the vet and saying I was just going to have my teeth cleaned and that was all, I'm not sure how nice I feel like being. At least I haven't growled at her or tried to bite her since I've been in stitches. Is that nice enough?
No comments:
Post a Comment