My Dog is a Karen – Vet Visit
The yearly checkup for our puppy of nearly ten years took us to the veterinarian’s office this week. Here is her story in her words.
Mom approaches with my harness and this can only mean one of two things. Either bad people are coming over or we are going for a walk. I sit like a good girl and patiently wait for the harness while mom complains about me moving too much. She reaches for the leash and again, mom yells at me for not listening to her unreasonable ramblings.
The back door brings excitement for this means a walk, but something seems off because dad dons his hat and coat. The feeling of being bamboozled builds to see the garage door still down. My cheery disposition makes me think, “We are headed for the park.”
When we pass the park, my worst fears come to fruition and I calmly announce my concerns as mom yells at me to stop whining. The happy sign of dogs and cats playing appear through the windshield and my heart frets as we pull into the parking lot. “Not here” clearly squeaks out in an appeal for clemency from the doom facing me. I kindly plea, “Please just take me home,” Mom screeches back I am being too loud.
Then the scents of food, other critters, and strange medicine torture my nose and mind. The woman in scrubs tells me to sit on the unstable platform. “Not long enough,” everyone shouts at me. The uneasiness of the stage adds to the wobbliness of my legs.
Then the scrubbed woman shuts us in a prison cell of torture and mayhem. I can hear our captors plotting just outside the door. Their malevolent expressions carefully filter through the door and then heavy steps drift them away. The henchwoman enters to gather more information to determine the exact punishment to deal out on my body for the day. Mom and dad answer her questions with delight and detail for maximum retribution. She exits the room with the foulest of smiles on her face.
Another eternity of plotting happens just outside the door. Evil words, like shot, needle, and sentinel purposefully float through the door meant to strike fear into me. The henchwoman and the Grand Inquisitor enter the lockup carrying devices of pain and torture. She tries bribing me with a cookie but I am too clever for that. My Judas of a mother forces me into the grips of my tormentors.
The GI flashes a brilliant light into my eyes in order to blind me to what is about to happen. She prods my ears with a funnel in an effort to silence her future intentions. I feel the cold metal rubbing on my chest in order to stop my heart from beating, but I fight through the ordeal. Then she hangs my tail high into the air so I cannot protect my private spot. Then runs her hand down my belly looking for the soft spot to kill me.
The GI orders the henchwoman to take me to worm my heart and lop off my toes. I bravely take the final walk of death to the recesses of the dungeon. There, she extracts a gallon of blood from my forearm. Again, I prove resilient and survive this attempt to end my life. Several people secure my being while the henchwoman uses pruning shears to hack off my nails to the nub.
Mom and I leave the office while dad stays back to conspire for the next visit. I lay placid on the back seat all the way home not wanting to return to the horrors of the Veterinarian’s office.
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