Belly-banded Big Pupi whines:
To say that I am not a happy camper is putting it lightly. I thought I was unstoppable. I had superpowers. I was one heck of a cocker spaniel. I have been taken down a notch... or three. It was only last week when I paid a visit to the Place of Tile and Steel and received the marks of a grade-A pup:
The doctor thought I looked wonderful! I got all the highest scores for my therapy dog health forms. There was a great big CHECK next to "Yes! This dog is healthy and capable of performing all of the duties necessary." And then there was this on the form:
I'm king! The doctor said that my weight is fabulous and my fitness level is superb. She gave me a little temperament test and I passed with flying colors! My eyes were bright, my tummy good and I was just full of energy. But one week later...
Okay, folks. When it rains it pours in this place, so to speak. Sometimes it makes mom feel like she's got Munchhausen Syndrome. One vet visit usually begets 2 more, keeping that "Rule of 3" theory alive and well. This time was no different, as I found myself at the horrid Place of Tile and Steel again this month. I've survived the trifecta. First, Stanislaw and I caught 24-hour Bordatella. Then there was my health screening which came out a-ok. And now there is a rather sensitive issue...
This is kind of personal - I have an angry weeble.
It's a little bit UTI and a little bit weeble infection. The humans believe they know where this came from, and that too is rather embarrassing. I won't get too far into it but my man parts are rather... manly... and sometimes come in contact with items I am marking in my territory. Seeing that downtown Chicago isn't particularly clean, I probably picked something up. Gross! I've got antibiotics and anti-inflammatory meds, and I also have this:
DO YOU KNOW WHERE THAT GOES???!!!
Needless to say, I am not very cooperative during my daily treatment. It's a good thing mom isn't squeamish! To add insult to injury, I was sent home from the doctor's office with a nice big e-collar that I was supposed to sport around town. Yeah right! Since I'd get it caught on things and then panic, mom strapped me into Stanislaw's old belly band from when he had separation anxiety and would do his weebles all over the apartment. Since that's rather small on me (it was sized for Stan when he was a super skinny boy) she's also fastened dishtowel coverings complete with humongous maxi pads inside for easy changing and cleanliness. This is just too humiliating!
In typical Big Pupi fashion, I'm acting like nothing's wrong. The only sign that I'm a little uncomfortable sometimes is my desire to tend to my sore area which the belly bands prevent me from doing. Otherwise I'm spending my days thrashing my meowing kitty toy and nibbling on my duck stuffy. I'm getting better super fast and hope to join my folks on a fast hunt by Monday.
So, hopefully this is it for Stanislaw and me at LEAST for the rest of the year. I'm just about feeling like my mighty self again! And I'm so beyond ready to get this ridiculous diaper contraption off my bum! Time to walk circles under mom's chair and legs for the next hour. I have make certain she doesn't forget to give me dinner feasts!