Sophie went this morning for her tooth pulling/wart removal surgery. I was a good doobie, making sure that she got no food or water after midnight last night, and keeping her far away from her favorite evening snack of kleenex.
This morning, Sophie was all upset (probably picked it up from me) and was shaking and whining softly. She wouldn't go in the car voluntarily and ran back onto the porch, and I nearly gave it up right then. Bob drove us to the vet, while I held Sophie and made soothing noises. Once we got there, the people were very nice, even though they were laughing at Sophie -- she was shaking so that her little pointy ears were bouncing up and down.
I brought a dirty towel from home to put in the cage at the vet, so Soph would know we haven't left her. Still, she began to cry when I walked away. (me, too) I know that she looks like she's just a dog, but to me, she's just a hairy little short person that smells.
Bob just went to the market to get Sophie her food for the next couple of days - Gerber Stage II baby food. He was moaning and groaning that I wasn't this concerned when I had my own surgery. He's right, I am way more worried about the Sophster. I keep comforting myself with the knowledge that this is the best for her health, and will have the side benefit that she will no longer be able to bite people -- she bit my father once. Every dog I've ever had has bitten my father at one time or another.
It's very weird not to have Sophie here with me - she's always at my feet while I'm at the computer or when I'm in my chair, beading. No one barked at the mailman today, either. I don't like this at all.
Waiting anxiously for a phone call,
Kathy N-V