See,
my dog has lumps. He’s been a lumpy boy
for some time now. I’ve had dogs all my
life and the vets I’ve taken them to have always said “fatty tumor, leave it
alone”. I have always had a doctor that
I trusted and listened to me, at least as an adult pet owner. When I was a child and just out of school I
was still in fear of the vet. They know
so much more than I do.
However,
with age comes knowledge and with knowledge comes questions and new fears. I have lived with this dog for ten years
now. I have known him since he was five
weeks old and woke up with him in the middle of the night for barefoot walks in
dewy grass so he could learn to pee outside.
I searched high and low for him when his beagle nose led him away from
me into the danger of the streets and other dogs’ yards.
When
he contracted mange and no one knew what it was, I found a vet that did and he
was cured. And we loved this vet for six
years, until he just one day up and retired and moved away. Shock, fear and anger are STILL with me! And for the last two years we have been
shopping around and trying new veterinarians, wanting to find THE ONE again. It isn’t going to happen.
So
I’ve made the appointment, I am arming myself with knowledge and I will make
sure that what is done is done with respect and care in the best interest of my
dog. This doctor is going to have to
understand that I am an extension of my dog, that I speak for him and want only
the best for him. I don’t consider him a
god and I will question him if I don’t understand.
And
maybe, just maybe, someday down the line, this doctor will be “the one”, the
one that we trust our animals lives with, the one we miss when he’s on vacation
and we make ourselves wait for him to get back instead of going to another
doctor (unless it’s an emergency), the one that we tell all our friends about
so they know a good place to bring their own fur babies.
I’ll
keep my fingers crossed.
No comments:
Post a Comment