So my poor puppy (yes, I still call him a “puppy” despite the fact that he’s 8 years old and weighs 90 lbs.), had a vet visit this morning for his rabies shot and to have the doc take a look at a small lump he’s developed in his neck.
While we were in the waiting room, filling out paperwork, the FedEx lady arrived to pick up packages and shot a terrified look toward Jib.
“He’s very friendly.” I assured her.
“He’s too big.” She replied, with wide eyes.
“Aww, that’s not his fault. Do you want to say, ‘hi?'”
“NO! NO! NO!”
“Oh. Okay. Uh…we’ll just go over here then.”
So I guess it’s not just me; people think my dog is some kind of monster too.
Anyway, Jib is down to a svelte 87 lbs. from his peak at 103 a few years ago. Seems that switching to Orijen Six Fish and adding a half mile to our daily walk has done wonders for his coat, his weight, and his overall health.
Also it turns out the lump is not on his lymph node, which is good. (Seriously. Consult the Google and it will always find a way to say you have the cancer… I should’ve figured this out by now.)
Originally the vet was going to take a sample from it, but after palpating it for a bit decided to wait until September when we have to bring both Jib and Alex back for their annual phalanx of syringes.
And that visit… That one will be a bit more stressful.
Because there’s always a concern that Alex will have an allergic reaction to one of the shots.
A few years ago we took him to get his boosters and, less than 15 minutes after we’d gotten him home, his face swelled hideously and he started having trouble breathing. So we carried him out to the car and I drove 110 mph down the Katy Freeway back to the vet. I think I took a year off the life of my wife’s Altima by doing so…probably one from my wife too.
Anyway, I’m just happy that Jib is healthy. He’s getting to the age where each vet visit might bear ill news, and I’m simply not ready to deal with that.