Friday, October 5, 2012

Old Yeller

This handsome, old man had a big date yesterday.


A date with the vet...



Of course Boji's favorite day of the year.

It doesn't really hit him that he is at the vet's office until we walk into our own little room and they close the door behind us. Prior to that he is a maniac sniffer on sensory overload. He becomes hard of hearing, and his nose never rises more that 3 inches from the floor. Tail wagging a mile a minute.

As soon as that door shuts and I know he knows where he is, he looks up at me in a disapproving fashion, pins his ears back and promptly heads right for the closed door and does his best to put on his please-let-me-out-I-really-have-to-go-potty face.

I can't help but feel a little guilty.

While we wait for the vet, you can either talk to your dog - which I think is perfectly normal at home. However, for some reason in public, especially in a closed room, makes you sound like a crazy _____ (insert choice animal.) It's either that, or silently ask yourself a laundry list of questions.

Why does my dog suddenly shed so bad as soon as we get to the vet?

Cat Fancy. American Sporting Dog. Why do doctor's office's always have the lamest list of magazines?

I wonder if people steel all the good magazines while they wait?

Boji is obsessively sniffing every inch of the room.


Ahhh man, Boji is getting hair everywhere. I wonder what a pain in the butt it is to clean a vet's office every night?

I wonder if they hire a cleaning crew?

I wonder if they use bleach every night?

I wonder how much this is going to cost today?

Why are you shedding so much?

The vet tech enters and we exchange casual greetings, Boji slinks back over by the door, ears pinned again. My overly happy-to-meet-you dog is silently screaming, "Get me out of here!"

In the last couple years, the old Boji man has gotten a little snippy in his old age. Given his current, pleasant attitude, I felt it was proper to inform the poor vet tech that the old grumpy man snapped at the vet tech two years ago when she tried to worm him. Given how happy he appeared, I just wanted to put that disclaimer out there. After some bribing with cookies coaxing, Boji let the vet tech complete a preliminary examination, including a temperature check. I got to supervise the danger zone. I gave him that silent look that said, "You bite me bucko and you'll wish you weren't shedding like a maniac right now when you're sleeping outside for the rest of your life."

He was shedding a LOT.

Some people sweat when they are nervous - Boji sheds.

The Doc came in and we hoisted Boji up on the counter. I mentioned I noticed that the ol' boy has been slinking on and off the couch these days - rather then jumping up and down with ease. I also noticed that his unending will to play fetch has been roped in and after 3-4 throws, he calls a little 'time out' to catch his breath.

The Doc checked his range of motion in his shoulders and hips and saw there was definitely a difference in his range of motion in his left back knee. A little inflammation. A little loss of muscle tone.

Diagnosis... early onset of arthritis.

The poor old man.

I told the vet we were planning a hunting trip in November with Boji. He said he should have no problem hunting. We have to keep him on some anti-inflammatory drugs and he should be just fine.

Did ya hear that Boji? You and Daddy can still hunt!

He got a quick shot.

And juuuuuuuust as the vet was about to wrap it up, he was reminded of Boji's age. There was one more test older, in-tact males had to succumb to... 

Nothing says old fart like the old prostate exam!

I'm really sorry buddy...
An extra doggie treat for you tonight!

While Boji and the Doc were getting "more acquainted" I saw a poster that said Boji's age in people years was like 61. Over the next 3 years he will actually age about 27 years in equivalent. That's like 88.

As I studdied that chart, I couldn't help but feel like time was running out. Three years is nothing. My Brown Eyed Girl is already three - almost four. And that time slipped right past me while I was sleeping.

When asked if I had any other questions... I honestly and humbly asked, "How much time do you think we have left?" And then I began rambling something about... I know anything could happen at any time... given his health today... with the exception of something major... I know you don't have a crystal ball... I know I sound like the crazy ____ lady for sure now.... but how much longer is average?

The Doc smiled slightly and said, "It's hard to tell for sure. The fit, athletic ones - if they can avoid cancer and such - can make it to 13 or 14. He's in great shape. As long as you keep doing what you're doing... I don't see why the beautiful guy can't make it to 14."

"Thanks Doc. Cause we aren't ready to loose him quite yet."

We said our good byes and I hurried out the door as fast as I could.

Once in the car (and out of ear shot) I told Boji I was sorry I got mushy and I embarrassed him, sorry he got 'explored' today and sorry he got a shot.

Five minutes down the road he saw some deer he wanted to chase and all was forgotten. 


I can't help but love your guts Boji!





  

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