Wednesday, 12 September 2012

Can you just drop her off at the vet.

I had a plan.  Maybe that is where I went wrong.

Leyla was due to have an eye graft operation so with Sam ably womanning the fort at home I picked up the puplets at my end and went for a walk.  Now the lake the guys usually swim in has been drained so no swimming the look of complete confusion was worth the walk down and to see the dock high in the air was even a little odd for me!

Anyhoo as usual I am on a tangent.  Off we toddled in Izzy the van panting, happy dogs crashed in the back and a rather disgruntled hungry pug sitting on her own in the top cage. Sat nav primed we soon arrived only to find a rather small local surgery that was most definitely closed.  Drat.  I popped an even more disgruntled, hungry now chilly pug back into her cage and phoned the vet.  Oh goody no appointment.  A gentle discussion on who may have done what or rather who hadn't done what and I then phoned the referral vet.

Have you ever come across a troll who has just been told his bridge is closed to passing tourists?  No me neither but this receptionist does a fantastic impression of one.  As I start to talk she cuts me off ( how on earth did she manage to do that normally you don't stand a chance in the hell of stopping me mid flow)and says can you please hold......My teeth started to grind in readiness for the tinny music and I felt almost cheated when non arrived.... I held.

When she came back she then allowed me( how gracious) to actually tell her what I wanted after a gentle telling off and confirmed Puglet did indeed have an appointment at said surgery and that the information had been faxed over.  Hurriedly and more than a little defensively she said it was up to the owner to confirm before backtracking faster than Harry when he see's me wearing rubber gloves.

With a sigh I asked her to sort and then spoke to all concerned as to what was, what might be and what definitely wasn't happening next.  The snoring had a lovely soothing rhythm as did the snorting from a warmer still hungry disgruntled pug.

Soon we once again trundling along and one arrival at the hospital we wandered in pug in arm.  Oooh very swish, big flat screen tv, coffee machine and a buzz of activity.  That was until I arrived and the whispered hurried conversation stopped.  Or at least it stopped once their eyes had gone from my eyes, down to my Petnanny Logo to the pug.  No earwigging required here clearly we were no longer a topic of conversation and I enjoyed a sit down to watch the lovely giggly Philip Schofield.

As Leyla eyeballed I started to listen to people talking about their woes with their dogs, the rabbit and whatever was sitting in the basket.  I am really really bad at earwigging and often have to make it up as I go along.  The brown and white collie kept gently touching his owner with his nose anxious for some attention.  Much like a doctors surgery people kept checking their watches and soon even I could tell they were not a happy band.  So I settled myself down to a long wait.  Leyla was now watching Holly Willabooby when I was called in.

Being the last to arrive I felt a little uncomfortable as many pairs of eyes followed me.  Gulp probably just as well I am pants at earwigging it was't just my face that was burning!

Readied for the trauma of full force abandonment admonishment from a unhappy pug I was surprised to leave the consulting room with puglet still under my arm!  Leyla went from being an urgent surgery case booked for surgery to being a lets leave it till next week and treat her entropion issue then.

Without looking over I wrestled puglet to pop her cone of shame onto her head whilst they added up my bill ( I swear I saw one of them flicking through travel brochures) and started to earwig away.

The little old lady with a stick jumped the queue and started to talk to me about her part blind Poodle how much the two poodles cost her, that she had tripped over one of them and damaged her shoulder so now not only limped on her bad hip but also couldn't use her normal stick cos of her bad shoulder.  After asking how old her poodle was I told her about Shy and telling her he had been 14years old she exclaimed oh dear what on earth happened for him to die so young.  Well saying she had only had poodles!  When I was young I always wondered what happened to poodles they always seemed to be young or old and nowhere in between.  I think it is cos they are old for so long!

After a natter about how long lived poodles are compared to many breeds.   Next walked in a very very stressed Yorkie who clearly had the distended belly of a dog in end stage heart failure and I could feel my heart thump.  Reminding me of a time with a lovely yorkie who died on my knee in the waiting room of a vet waiting for her routine heart check ( I did managed to temporarily revive her unfortunately in vain).

I am not often in a hurry to pay but on this occassion I waggled my cash and soon we were on the road.

Walking dogs is much easier than this lark I can tell you....

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