Pocket's Ordinary Trip to the Vet

One day last week we left River Song alone in the house.  As I settled on Mommy’s lap, Daddy started the car, and I became excited about the prospect of our destination.   Disappointingly, as usual, our ride concluded at the vets.  It is one of life’s never-ending disappointments.

I had four vet trips last year, one for my checkup, one for teeth removal and cleaning, one for a collapsed trachea, and one for a nasty tick.  I did not enjoy any of them.  When we arrived at the vet, I ran my tongue around my few remaining teeth and worried that at worst they would take more and at best they would give me sleepy juice and clean them.

As we crossed the threshold, my Dad handed over a fecal sample, apparently mine, which displeased me.  It has long been my policy not to give a s**t, and I have no respect for a person who takes s**t.  But I quickly forgot about it when I saw the busy waiting room.

Mom and I sat in a chair, but Daddy had to stand by the door because the other seats were occupied.  I did not like this arrangement.  When I am nervous, I like to shuttle between their laps, and I had a right to be nervous.  Whenever you go to a place where they removed some of your precious body parts you need to worry.

A woman was sitting on our left with a plump chihuahua.  Usually, when I am with other dogs, I bark and act obnoxiously, but on this day we just glanced at one another expressing sympathy.  The little dog had climbed on his mama’s shoulder, as I often do when scared.  Besides being in the doctor’s office, there was another reason for concern.
There were two cats in the office.  In a dog hospital!  It was unsanctioned, unnecessary and unsanitary.  Luckily, they were both in carriers, so I did not have to protect my mom from another vicious attack on her eyes by cornea thirsty kitties. Thankfully, they were both taken into exam rooms before any real damage occurred.

Then they called my name.  I tried to not get the trembles.  I went into a clean, well-lit room.  They placed me on a cold table and weighed me.  Then the doctor came in with a technician.  The tech laughed when she saw me.  The vet had told her I was a big girl who was hard to handle.  I was happy that she found me to be little and cute but didn’t know if their comments were appropriate.  Is it right for a human doctor to go into exam a woman and say “Wow, I expected you to be fat?”  I do not believe in body shaming.

The doctor listened to my heartbeat for too long, according to my concerned parents who were reading every tick of the doctor’s face to determine if she heard anything unusual.  She pronounced me in top health.   Then wham, a needle in the butt, bam, another needle in the butt, and thank you, ma’am, something squirted in my mouth.

  She looked at my teeth and said they were good and that made us all happy.  Some vets, once they get in your mouth, want to keep cleaning.  I am glad mine is leaving my few pearly whites alone

My parents quickly paid and we slunk out the side door.


I do like my vet, but I sure hope I don’t see one again until next year.