We began the morning by bringing Miss Cleo to the vet. While bringing Zorro to the vet is often sad, because he’s so sick, bringing Miss Cleo to the vet is always mortifying because she thinks vets and vet techs are tasty treats meant just for her.
But she was due for her heartworm test and kennel cough shot, and she’s got a couple of cysts we needed to have a vet look at, and she’s a month away from turning eight which means she’s a senior dog.
Even if SHE still thinks she’s a puppy.
Our vets are pretty flexible, really. They left us in the exam room and took her into the back, muzzled her long enough to deal with the needles, and let her out of the muzzle as soon as she was calm (ish), and when I apologized for her behavior they assured us it’s all part of the job.
Still.
We’ve gone through obedience training, agility classes, and she’s even managed to earn her CGC certificate and whatever we do, she freaks at the vet, and it doesn’t make sense because we’ve had her since she was eight weeks old and no vet has ever harmed her.
In any case, the cycts are benign lipomas, and she’s otherwise healthy, we just need to put her on senior food (do they make senior dog food in small bites?) and make sure she exercises.
Zorro is not on senior food because he is rapidly running out of teeth, and can’t manage crunchies. The rolled food we feed him at least makes him chew a little.
And canned stuff is just gross.
We had both of them on a BARF diet for the longest time, but Zorro can’t really do bones any more, and I was tired of dealing with raw meat.
Still, whenever there are bunnies on the lawn, Miss Cleo watches them with a predatory gleam in her eye, and growls under her breath, and I know she’s thinking “Mom, lunch is getting away.”
Today was not quite her worst vet visit ever, but she did manage to freak out enough that her eyes bled. So now we have ointment for that. Because drugging one of our animals every day isn’t enough.
At least the vet trip tired her out.
Which is good, because *I’m* too tired for walkies.