and engaging in psychological and guerilla warfare against me. He's whining in a most guilt-inducing fashion and banging the Collar of Shame (big giant cone style) against anything that might be breakable (objects) or bruisable (me).
Nonetheless, I am happy to report that his ear has been successfully lanced, his bloodwork is "great for a dog of any age, let alone one who's fourteen" and at least he's home.
I'm not quite so happy about the fact that I am three hundred dollars poorer.
1 comment:
Argh, I know! That's why I actually have a kind of medical plan for the cats this year. The good news: 25% off any bill. Bad news: It's not with Hunky Vet, who I've been going to for (gulp) 14 years. This is going to be hard. But I have Dylan draped across my lap as I write this. And the mystery tooth still haunts me.
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