Saturday, May 17, 2014

My Trip to the Vet

I knew this was coming because I overheard the Human Woman tell the Human Man that she had to take me to the vet for my rabies vaccine and (gasp) nail clipping.

Thankfully the weather was horrendous.  Torrential downpour of rain at the very moment we had to leave for the vet.  I set about my diabolical plan of refusing to get into the truck.  No amount of bribing, cajoling, or threatening would get me into the truck... until I was sufficiently wet.



It is well known in the Siberian Husky world that we huskies have amazing double coats.  The scotch-guarded top coat that allows us to wallow in mud and yet just shake it off, and the downy soft undercoat that comes out in clumps during our shedding season (which lasts approximately 364 days a year).

If we stay out in the rain long enough, all of that water soaks into our downy undercoat and stays there like a giant sponge.  If we loaded up with enough water, we could slowly trot across the largest desert and still be damp and hydrated when we got to the other side.

Once I was sufficiently loaded up with water, I then jumped into the back of the truck... and waited.

Yes, you have to choose your moments wisely.  Too early and the water distribution is not sufficient enough for a reaction.  Too late and the torrent of water is wasted... you must wait until the Human Woman is buckled into the driver's seat, and preferably when she's on a busy highway and concentrating really hard... and then you shake.

The containment of the truck, the closed windows all make for the perfect environment for the spray of cold hairy shake water.  It's best if you can position yourself in the middle of the front seats for the best effect.

Then you laugh and laugh


This also means that once you arrive at your destination, you are dry and pretty, while the Human Woman...


... not so much.

I made sure to make my disdain for the place known with a very well placed poo, which was immediately gathered in a green plastic bag and given to the person at the front desk.  I can only assume that my poo is so precious that it is used as a form of payment and explains why the Human Woman gathers it daily.

As usual, I was forced into a horrible little room that smelled of other dogs who had undergone horrendous procedures, like temperature taking, and teeth looking, and even ... finger in the po-po.

I asked politely if I could leave... and was denied.



I was dragged, screaming, to the back room of torture.  You must scream before they do the procedures, because it keeps them off-guard and they feel bad for making you scream... and it also warns other dogs from miles around that this is the place where bad things happen.

With my precious and well sharpened claws clipped, I was escorted back to the little room where they listened to me breath, poked me in the po-po, then jabbed me with a sharp needle.

I was then taken to the shop of many good smells and encouraged to pick out something special.  I can only surmise that this offer was out of pure guilt, and that by refusing everything offered to me caused the Human Woman even more guilt.  It is worth not having a new chewbone to cause her more anguish.



She finally took me home where I was questioned and sniffed by the Mutatoe and Bionic Hip, Knee, Spineless Underwater Treadmill dog Sam.  I told them of the horrors of my trip and warned them against going anywhere with the Human Woman.  Sam scoffed and said that all of his trips out were relaxing and fun... he is clearly delusional.

Thankfully I am strong enough to overcome such attempts to diminish my dignity.


You will have to try harder Human Woman and I shall defeat you every time!

- Meeshka

6 comments:

The Army of Four said...

Oh, I can learn so MUCH from you, Meeshka! I hope you'll post more often; I can always use another mentor!
Yours sincerely,
Margaret Thatcher
PS: Do you also smell like a wet sheep when you do the giant sponge thing? My mom has called us wet sheeps on the rare occasion that we've had rain.

The Thundering Herd said...

As always, we are impressed with your incredible vet visiting skills. Typhoon is taking copious notes, though he seems to have the screaming thing down.

Khyra And Sometimes Her Mom said...

Let's try this again -

I pawed something earlier but my human woman was at work and I khouldn't rekhall the pawsword -

I love your sponging skills!

Although I view the vet trip as a social visit, I do understand not all do -

As fur the soaking work, I did some of my own a few weeks ago - just stood and let my furs drink and drink - there was a robin nearby that thought I was a wee bit off BUT ;-)

Hugz&Khysses,
Princess RainKhloud Siberian Sponge
aka Khyra

Marilyn Hubley said...

We play bow to your greatest, we have had to resort to standing in the rain and then darting around the towel positioned to be thrown on us when we enter wet. We then strategically place ourselves between the human and a nice piece of furniture and shake the bejesus out ourselves. We have had to resort to this as the human refuses to take us for a car ride anymore.
Hubley Hooligans

Jack & Moo said...

Ha-roo rooo rooo! what great technique woo have! During our vet visits, Jack usually just cries & I whine VERY loudly, but screaming... now that's genius!

~Miss Moo

Wild Dingo said...

Um, Meeshka? Ya, um, don't get any ideas about making friends with my siberian who loves to get in the car and go anywhere and does anything I ask her.

signed,
the human who's car is covered in shake off mud and sibe fur...