Tag Archives: vet

There and Back Again

drivewayWhere do we begin? It’s has been just over a year in the human lunar calendar since I was able to convey my life story. How did I become for want of a better word educated? As you smooth skins would classify as educated anyway, seventy percent hard work, twenty percent luck and ten percent biscuits.

Last time we spoke I had just made one of the biggest mistakes of my puppy life, I talked out loud to the food giver in smooth skin tongue, which resulted in a trip to the hamster killer aka vet wobble bottom.

Well lets rewind a little to my midnight encounter with the mistress canine, who tired to seduce me into the doggy dark side of my powers. With my newfound skill I could unite all K9’s as one fighting force, to rule dogkind! Or die with the flea bitten goodie goodie Chihuahua circus, who long for a voice to represent the doggy generation.

By opening my puppy chops to the food giver, I had unwittingly sowed the seed of my so-called demise, unraveling a turn of events that would ultimately change my life forever, and all of those around me.

By the time we had reached the hamster killer, word had already spread of my broken silence in the presence of a smooth skin. The evil seductress bitch (female dog) had relayed the message to her unknown master of her fears that there would be a chance I would be taken forever and experimented on. A death sentenced had been cast upon me.

Two large, smelly, drooling and stupid looking dogs and one sharp looking and slightly pissed off dog laid in wait near our shiny rumble rumble place goer, whilst my food giver and I entered the vets.
“Mr Blue you’re on look out, give me two small ruffs if you see them coming back. Mr Pink you’re on entrance duty.” Mumbling to himself Mr Pink let out a mini howl “why do I have to be Mr Pink why can’t I be Mr Green or Mr Yellow?”

Blue shook his head as drool cascaded in all directions then sighed “not this again.” Mr Black raised up onto his hind legs with a scorned look on his face. “Now I’ve told you about this before, there are already other dogs on different jobs with the names Mr Yellow and Mr Green. You just have to make do with what’s been chosen for you, and stop bringing this subject up while we’re on a contract. You don’t want another incident like the Shih Tzu Saga!”

Blue let out a little giggle snort “shit gate is what me and the lads called it.” Pink squinted his eyes up at Blue and snarled under his breath “I’m just saying its not fair that Tarquin should get a name like Mr Blue”

Black suddenly snarls and lashes out at Pink, gifting him a little nip on the ear causing a submissive whimper. “Let that be the end of it! I want to get this job done and dusted before those two come out of the vets, plus the postman comes around to my fake letterbox at 4:30 and I don’t want to miss him again. Pink, pay attention! Go and jump up through the back window and be quick about it. We have wasted too much time as it is!”

Pink leaped up the rumble rumble maker’s door and slickly slid in through the window, being careful not to leave any marks. He scrambled onto the back seat and maneuvered his way to the front. Opening the front door for Black to do his thing.

Sniffing for signs of trouble Black entered quickly going straight for the break pedal “quick, who has the bouncy ball of death?” Pink lets out a gasp “shit, uh, I thought you had it” shooting a look of disbelief up at Pink from the floor, Black bellows “Grrrr! Really, I mean really, its the Shih Tzu saga all over again.”

All of sudden Black and Pink hear the warning sign “Ruff Ruff”. Pink starts to panic “what we going to do? What we going do?” Black quickly sets his gaze around the vroom vroom “calm yourself Pink and do exactly what I say, grab me those empty coke cans from down near the passengers side, then go join Blue at the rally point.”

Black with cool, calm and ease of a seasoned pro jams the empty cans under the break pedal, grabs the front passenger door and pulls it to. Hitting down the lock back into place and then makes his relaxed professional exit through the rear window and vanishes like a canine ninja.

The food giver and I entered the car and before driving we heard “Weight! Please! Please weight!” watching a dangerously overweight veterinarian running lightens up any awkward moment. Between pants the vet spluttered out “Your…. Your dog… It bloody talked!” The Food giver got out the car and slowly edged towards the vet, she drew herself up to her highest height as close to his nose as possible and screamed, “Tell me something I don’t know hamster boy!”

Then we sped off. flinging up gravel dust over the vet. We were flying down a gravel track and we didn’t even break for the turning onto the main road. I could tell that the food giver was not a happy bunny to put it mildly. What happened next still seems like a blur, and all I can really remember was the sound of the smooth skin screaming confused words. She uttered what sounded like the ‘Bucking fakes wont push down’ then bang it all went black!!

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The Hamster Killer!

The vet is a horrible, stinking, disgusting and intrusive place, to the point you wonder if it encroaches on perversion. I can’t back that last statement up but goddamit they scare the willies out of me, for some dogs that’s fact. I must admit the ride over there in the car is the only consolation.

As we neared the building my tongue felt salon blow-dried to the point it wouldn’t fit back into my mouth. But there it was, the building of disrepute, the land of pain and strange exotic smells. But I have to be brave, this is my own fault and I must face my fears.

I feel as though if anyone were to create a time machine, they would be driven by the desire to change a stupid comment that made them look like a complete lemon. In my case I called my owner a “nagging old shower of poo”. This behavior is frowned upon, epically when coming from a dog that is supposed to bark.

I have chosen to keep my communication skills quiet since then, seeing as it caused the food giver to have a nervous break down. I suppose this is the reason why I make my way to the butcher of hamsters. I’ve been told he keeps a necklace of gerbil ears under his white coat.

“Well is this the little fella? Well ello my smoochy liddle poochy woochy.” See, pure evil. “What seems to be the problem? Hurty paw? Naughty tummy?” He’s probably thinking about how best to cook me. “Well lets see if Mr. and Misses knows what the problem is ay?” It took all my strength not to tell him to shove that cold thermometer up his jacksy.

“The little bastard called me a massive pile of shit!” It’s a difficult challenge to completely describe the screech that food giver number 1 bellowed when she said shit. “Um well this isn’t really my area, you know… um our talking dog specialist is on holiday. “

A shifty silence ensued, with equally shifty eyes. An uncomfortable period of silence unused, where nobody wished to break it “Bollocks! I said poo! If you’re going to dob me in to the evil hamster killer then at least have the common courtesy to get it right!

If silence were an Olympic sport then this lot would be famous. Then suddenly someone started to gently sob. “It was a hamster virus that hit the town I tell you!” And the vet ran from the observation room whimpering. As we walked in frustrating silence to the car we heard a heavy run on gravel struggling behind us.

“Weight! Please! Please weight!” watching a dangerously overweight veterinarian running lightens up any awkward moments. Between pants the vet splurted out “Your…. Your dog… It bloody talked!” Food giver number one slowly edged towards the vet and drew herself up to her highest height as close to his nose as possible and screamed.

“Tell me something I don’t know hamster boy!” Then we sped off flinging up gravel dust over the vet. It was at this point that I had a newfound respect for humans, even if they seemed to be a tad emotional.

Photo courtesy of Albert Bridge at Geograph

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