Thursday, January 18, 2007

Man's Best Friend

We hopped in the Queen Mary and after settling in, headed east out of town. No, it was not an escape, Puggles had a vet appointment. Her skin allergies were out of hand and she was biting and scratching something terrible. She had a rubbed a few places raw, having found that an unused cable TV outlet was the perfect height to reach the spot above her tail. She would wiggle her butt against it and just "ooooowwwww ooooooowwwrop" away as it relieved the itch.

I take her about 15 miles away and pass a ton of vet hospitals because I trust this vet with her life. She has been going there since she was a tiny pup, they know her and she knows them. Most dogs howl and resist going to the vet. Puggles bolts from the car and strains at her leash to get in, scratching at the door... come on!! She bursts in, whole body wiggling; she just can't wag her tail enthusiastically enough. "I am here!, Love me, Pet me!, Where are the treats!!!??"

She gets her shot, and her glands expressed and she is much happier. As he looks at her, Dr B wants to do a dental. Her almost 8 yr old teeth need attention. I resist as it involves putting her under anesthesia and I hate that. Pugs have been known to be difficult to bring out of anesthesia. What do I do? Risk that, or have her in pain over some bad teeth. As much as I trust Dr B, hell he has been a vet for 37 years, I think I'll get a second opinion.

I like dogs more than most people. Friendly, loyal, caring, trusting, loving unconditionally, I have never been screwed over by a dog. They may pee on your rug (usually that is your fault for not taking them out) but they never stab your back. You know where you stand with them. Be a dog's master and protector, and you have a friend for life. Feed them, a warm place to sleep, a treat or 20, a few toys, they are content.

Dogs know us. Scientists suspect that the dog-human relationship goes back to pre-history. Wolf remains have been found with human remains dating from 400,000 years ago. Domestication of dogs took place 17-14,000 years ago. Thus they are sensitive to our moods and feelings, adapt to our schedules and gleefully join us in our celebrations and feasting.

Last night, I had fit of coughing and restlessness at about 3AM. As I hacked and tossed, cursed and wailed, Puggles lay beside me. Always looking at me with those dark big eyes. When I would settle, I'd get a couple of pugkisses. "You ok daddy??" she'd seem to say. Her velvet ears would get scratched and tummy rubbed. When I would drift off, she'd lay and softly snore and make her long, contented snort-sigh (something only a pug can do) to let me know all is relaxed and well.

I have not decided about her teeth. It seems to be a no-brainer to get her teeth fixed. But the anxiety, the questions, the stark fear; what would I do with out her? It would send my fragile mental health into a tail spin. She is more than a dog, she is my soul mate. My baby, my rock. We'll have to think long and hard about that one.

She is on her throne right now, a leather recliner with a green velvet cushion for her to lay upon. A passing barking dog has been dispatched with a few growls, get thee gone! Snoring softly, waiting to see if I am going to get up from the desk and go anywhere near food.

My friend.

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