Scout went to the vet yesterday for the second time in a week. He sang the song of his people all the way there and most of the way back. He clearly knew where we were going and he was not having it.
You see, we went for a routine annual visit last week but the dr found a heart murmur. We did blood work and it luckily isn’t cause by a heart condition. Instead, they are concerned about his high blood sugar and wanted him back for a glucose test.
So, in case you’re counting (because Scout sure is), I dragged him from home last week so he could be prodded by strangers who would stick him with a shot before sticking him with a needle to take his blood.
This week, things were less dramatic but he did get stuck with another needle.
Unacceptable.
He let me know that he would be speaking to Santa Claws about all this. He had some choice words for where I could go and what I could do with the proverbial horse I rode in on too.
He gets so anxious in the car and at the vet. Even his little paws are sweaty and clammy so that undoubtedly impacts his bloodwork. Poor guy.
Our pets are like our children and it’s hard to help them when they can’t verbalize how they’re feeling. So we just do our best and hope to not be murdered in our sleep after a vet visit.
