The scorching weather is still all over Ireland, and so even today we had our lunch on the beach and a nice good swim in the sea. This is the routine we are pampering urself since the school have finished. We try to be back home by 3.30/4, and I can write undisturbed until dinner time. Today we were late because I had errands to run after the beach. I had to collect some of Indie’s documents to give to her adoptive parents who are coming to take her on Saturday, and I had to stop by at my Swedish friend’s home to collect her fishes. When on holidays we mind each other fishes. Unfortunately, this summer we have nothing to be cared for as all our long line of aquatic houseguests have been suppressed by our late psychopathic bully fish who, ultimately, took his own life.
As usual, the little swimming guys came with a friendly and handy travel tank. Daughter number 1 and 2 are in the back seats wearing only their still wet swimming suit and a towel around their waist. They naturally fought over who has to hold the tank on the way home, and daughter number 1 wins ignoring that the tank is not leaking proof and if I drive over 40 km /h(a thing that I do) it splashes everywhere. The back road is bumpy and not entirely paved. Thankfully the journey is no longer than 7/10 minutes because a little bit longer, and the poor guys wouldn’t have had any water left.
Once home I wasted an hour fighting with the internet connection and with the gymnastics club website to pay for the first term of next season. Yes, you heard me: They want to be paid for something is not going to start until September within the 6th of July and in full!
Without me even realising it, it was already 5.30pm and like starving pirana the dogs were viciously going around my ankles reminding me that it was dinner time.
As the afternoon was nearly gone and soon it will be time to start making dinner for the girls there was no point to sit down at my desk, but I could optimise my time bringing Kurt to the vet.
When I called for him with the lead in my hand, he ran toward the door in total excitement. An excitement that vanished when he realised that it is only him going out. He knows that if he is brought out on his own and by somebody not wearing hunting gear and carrying a shotgun, it is not for something fun.
Our old vet was like family even for the non-canine side of the gang, in fact everytime we were at the surgery he would let me weight the girls on the dog’s scale: much simpler!
When we moved, and we had to pick a new vet, I won’t hide it has been more traumatic then picking the new GP. In the end, we follow the suggestion of our good neighbours. In the clinic, there are two vets. One older, that I love and who is genuinely compassionate; and a younger one that he is the one we most saw so far:dr M.He is an excellent doctor and very competent but not sympathetic.I frankly am not even sure he likes animals as pets. He is a very stylish man, but from what I heard through the grapevine, he is not Mr Congeniality. I must say there is certainly some truth in that but for some unknown reason with us he is always friendly and chatty. May be a reason can be found in the fact that every time we amuse him.I could start start with that time I was there just after spraining my ankle, and I asked him to have a look to see if it was broken so to avoid a trip to the hospital. A broken bone is a broken bone,weather is in a animal or a person right?. Then there was the time when I brought in Clara after we home treated an abscess on her paw, but we needed a prescription for some antibiotics. Not to mention the time when he noticed pellets on her ears, and I had to explain what happened and that the most of them I had removed them myself. Anyway, whatever the reason, he is always happy to see us, and he is very fond of Kurt and never wastes a chance to compliment me for the way he is kept, fit and slim.
Unfortunately, Kurt doesn’t reciprocate his fondness. To his eyes he is the man who always stacks a needle in his neck and, worst of all, he is the man who ordered his “castration”.According to Dr M, Kurt was over sexualized. I never heard of an oversexualized dog before, but I didn’t argue because he promised me that for sure he would have calmed down. Kurt was at the time still in his puppish jumpy phase when his hobby was chewing the couch and eating whatever he could reach, including multiple remote controls, my car seat belts and my husband inside car’s boot upholstery.On the day of the surgery, we had been welcomed by a German nurse with a solid accent who, while checking the information in the file, kept saying,”So Kurt,(in fairness to her she was the only one who got his name right), you are here to be castrated”.
“Castrated”?Spaded, neutered, fixed…whatever but that word said by her made me want to run away with my dog as fast and as far as possible.I, instead, only covered his big ears and whispered to him it was going to be ok.
“It will take at least three hours before he will be fully awake from the sedation and then we will have to monitor him for a while, so expect a call from us, not before 5″, that is what I was told at around 10.30am in the morning.
At around 2.30pm, they rang me:”Kurt is awake and wants his mommy”.I could hear him howling in the background. They couldn’t handle him any longer. Once home he jumped out of the car still with the huge Victorian collar around his neck and started running like a wild horse:”yep, he calmed down!!!”
Back to today, Dr M is on duty and Kurt had to put up with it. He is still a bit hyper-energetic, but he is also a real gentleman and behaved accordingly until the annual check and vaccination were finished.
When at the reception desk waiting to pay, two ladies with a cat each came in and still holding their cats’ carrier they started to pet Kurt. Wrong move as Kurt goes bananas when he sees cats. Soon it was the three of us pulling him back to avoid him to get to those fluffy creatures and have a feist.
The receptionist, who is an old lady who is everything but miss congeniality herself, looked at me disapprovingly and says,”Still not much of a well-mannered dog, is he?”,I blushed in shame remembering that time she “kindly” asked me to wait outside because Kurt was upsetting, if not terrorising, the other dogs in the waiting room.
Relieved that hopefully we don’t have to endure this for another year,I was ready to leave when the girls suddenly started to giggle and brought their hands up their nose.I look at them enquiringly and then …..the “scent” reached my nostrils.I immediately looked at Kurt still giving his back to the desk. He had just unleashed one of his most significant talent: a silent, deadly fart. I know I should feel embarrassed and may be sorry for the poor lady who will have to smell that for at least the next ten minutes, but I can’t stop laughing myself and, maybe, next time she will be nicer with poor handsome Kurt.