no one wants to

That's right. No one. No one wants to go to the vet.
Not me.
And definitely not Teeny.



But I don't use flea meds during the winter, and I didn't get them onto Teeny fast enough for the arrival of spring, apparently. I mean, winter was odd, and things were blooming in February, and I knew that...but I guess I just didn't put it together in regards to pets and those little pesky critters.

The poor dear chewed herself up but good last night, and it was a little beyond my repair. She had to get a patch of butt shaven, and a shot of cortisone, and now she's donning TheConeOfShame for a few days.

I saw a lot of wacky shit today at the vet's office.

First, there was the lady at the counter ahead of me. She was old enough to be my mother. She was holding a puppy and telling the counter staff that she thinks her dog must have herpes or something, and so she gave it some of her son's left over antibiotics (so much for him taking the full course, I guess), and now her dog just didn't seem right. All the while, I'm trying to ignore the fact that she reeks like marijuana and a baggie of it is hanging out of her open purse.

Then I see a poster on the bulletin board advertising in home pet care. And part of it says:
Qualifications:
* I have 1 dog and 1 cat.
* I am very good with pets (ask my dog!)

WHA???!?!

And then, while Teeny and I are in the exam room waiting for the vet, I hear another customer being brought in to the room next door with what sounds like a really big dog. I hear the vet tech tell him someone will be right with him, and then she shuts the door, and then I hear the guy, say to his dog:

OOooooo!!! Look Buster!!!! The table! It's so shiiiiinyyyy!!! Want to get on it??!?!

(I was betting that Buster did not. Even if he did understand that the table was so shiny.)



Alrighty. Pardon me. I must be going now. Spring has sprung and I need to go deal with getting meds on the menagerie.