Cooper Goes to the Vet

Cooper has a raw spot on his right leg that he has been biting and chewing at for a few days. Since I am planning to board him over the holidays I thought it would be smart to get him in with the vet to make sure the sore didn't require antibiotics.  Also, he has been doing some weird phantom pooping thing over the last couple of days where he tries to poop but nothing happens.  After I made the appointment I started parenting Cooper over the next 24 hours reminding him that vets are for healing and good health and told him to get his act together and behave like a dog instead of a psycho.

You see, the last time he went to the vet, they offered to trim his nails.  Big mistake.  Huge.  It was a fiasco.  They had him in the back and I could hear him howling and barking in agony and found myself covering my ears in the little waiting room pacing back and forth.  It literally sounded like they were torturing him with hot branding irons or ripping his nails out with a set of pliers.  When the vet brought him back to me she was a little disheveled and sweaty and said "Man, he's kind of dramatic."  I just laughed and said "You have no idea."

I put his leash on yesterday and he was bouncing with happiness!  I know he was thinking...dog park, dog park, dog park, I LOVE the dog park!   He leapt into the car with an abundance of joy and started his celebration barking routine.  When we left the neighborhood and turned right toward the vet and not left toward the dog park, his demeanor immediately changed.  No more barking, but lots of worried whining and pacing.  This was going to be fun.

We got there and his whining and pacing continued in the waiting room and he ramped it up when they called us back to the treatment room.  He was happy to see the vet and technician until they started trying to look at the raw place on his leg.  He snapped and snarled and made it painfully clear he was not interested in them touching him AT ALL.  I had a little baggie of leftover steak with me and his soft muzzle because I was worried he would refuse treatment.  I tried to distract him with the steak but he was having no part of her touching him.  We decided to muzzle him so she could examine him.  He put on the muzzle like a champ. Yum!  Steak. Thanks, Mom.  He thought it was over.

It was only just beginning.

So, once the muzzle was on, the technician was holding his head so the vet could listen to his heartbeat.  She put the stethoscope on his chest and he lost his mind.  Not touching his leg, not pushing on his boo boo.  She only put the stethoscope on his chest.  He sounded like a dog in a fight for his life.  The sounds coming out of his body were feral and panicked and horrible.

I was talking to him, the tech and vet were reassuring him in calm voices, but I assure you he couldn't hear us over his own violent protests.

The vet examined his leg and did not think it was infected although she could tell he had been working on it.  Then she suspected his anal glands might be compacted so she needed to examine his hind end.  If you thought the stethoscope response was bad, the sticking things in his bum sent him into orbit.  She expressed his glands (gag me with a pitchfork) and fur and spit and hate were flying all over that room.

Then they removed the muzzle and he was happy as a clam.  She says "He definitely has some issues.  We do think some dogs have their wires crossed, because his response is definitely over the top.  We might need to consider some anxiety medication or sedatives before he comes in again."  I don't think he is her favorite patient.

Also, he weighed in at 81.9 pounds.  Holy Moly!  She thought it was time to move him to the adult dog portion of food and not the puppy portion and can a recommendation that he needed to lose about five pounds to get his waist a bit more defined.

So in summary, Cooper had his anal glands expressed, was deemed mentally unbalanced and overweight.  Leg is fine.  It was not a good visit for Coop.

Then he came home and destroyed a snowman.  He is a treasure.