Grab Diesel's leash and watch him run around the house in delight. Catch him and put on his collar. Open the front door and have him burst into the front lawn. Open the car door and be nearly ran over as he jumps into the backseat. Get in, kick the AC on full blast, drive to the end of the street. Stop. Park. Open door for him again as he bursts out of the car. Let him stop, sniff, and pee on everything. Go inside. He's so happy to see his old friends again. And then it happens, this is when I feel so guilty, the poke of the first needle in the back of his neck and you can just tell he's thinking, "Ouch! WTF!?" And then comes the trickier one, taking blood from his leg. All the while, the Vet and I are reassuring him with repeated, "That's a good boy!"
Taking my animals to the vet has always made me a little heartbroken. Pets tend to act one of two ways; either they are terrified and you have to drag them into the building howling, or they act like they have never been their before and its totally fun and exciting till someone is stabbing them with a needle. At least the latter is a little easier to deal with, but I always have that feeling they are giving me the stink eye for the rest of the day. And for that, I spend the rest of the day making up for it with treats.
For anyone that's been around Diesel, Mikey and I, you can tell that Diesel is Mikey's boy. Which I totally understand because he was raised with Mikey, even going to work with Mikey at times and riding on the excavator with him. When Mikey has a day off, the two of them are inseparable, going on errands together or napping in the living room. When I get stuck taking him to the vet, you better believe I get knocked down a notch.
I have my moments with the big dogger too. We have our walks, which I know are a highlight in Diesel's week. And he certainly enjoys when I cook as I am a master at dropping food on the floor. And we also have our lazy mornings in bed when Mikey has to work, and I don't. But yet somehow, I always seem to be the one to take him into the vet. Just the other summer, Diesel managed to cut his paw open while in the backyard. We bandaged it up, and kept an eye on it but after a few days, it didn't seem to be any better. So of course, I have to be the big meany and take him to the vet where the even meaner vet had to take a look at it and decide it needed stitches. I had to leave him for a few hours while they knocked him out, stitched it up, and bandaged it up nice. Who do you think was there though when it was time to pick him back up? Mikey, the hero!
It's really not so bad, I suppose someone always has to be the fun parent, while the other take the more challenging role of the responsible one. And we most certainly enjoy our time spent as a family. As a matter of fact, if it doesn't storm in the next few hours as it looks like it could, we're hoping to take Diesel up to Bald Mountain for a swim.
I leave you all now, with a little video I took a few weeks ago, of just how excited Diesel gets before we go on a walk...