woof woof

I have suddenly become a dog person. I had kind of gotten to used to having a small, manageable dog when Shortcut came along. Now we are in real, big-dog territory, which is its own ball of wax and one that's totally unfamiliar to me.

This week Jared scheduled a vet appointment for Shortcut and then realized he had a school conflict. It was a day I work from home, so I was able to get away for a little bit and take her in. Unfortunately, she had chewed up her harness a couple of days earlier. Jared has a choke collar for her, but I don't know how to attach it to the leash or how to use it and I'm always afraid of hurting her with it, so after some deliberation I decided just to pick her up and wrestle her in.

She is getting kind of big for that sort of thing (almost 30 pounds now) and what with me being 7 months pregnant it was a bit of an ordeal, but we made it into the office and she sat on my lap while we waited for the appointment. Of course I was a sweaty mess by the time we were called back; having an extra 25 or 30 pounds of weight on your frame, plus a 30-pound dog on your lap that has to periodically be restrained when other animals are coming and going will do that to you. As if I that weren't attractive enough, I was also covered in black fur.

They gave me a temporary slip leash to take Shortcut home with, thank goodness. We did get her a new collar, so all is well. Anyway, I can't remember the last time I went to the vet. The last memory I have is of going with my cousin Jeannette and Aunt Nancy to a vet appointment with their dog Mickey(?). I think it was an appointment where they discovered that Mickey was a female and not a male... or vice versa? Anyway, that was well over 20 years ago, so I was pretty out of my element.

The vet commented that Shortie will probably end up being 50 pounds or so. I think I responded, "Oh, great..." in a somewhat dismayed tone. Really, I'm sure it will be fine; I was just imagining wrangling an additional 20 pounds of dog every time I have to get her in and out of the car.

On that note, today I decided that the dogs had to be bathed. They have been getting awfully grubby but I finally couldn't stand it a minute longer. Jared was busy with some other projects and I bathe Dan pretty routinely with no problem, so that didn't worry me. When it came to Shortcut, though, I was pretty intimidated. She wrestled Jared to death last time he bathed her and, once again, this 7-months-pregnant thing makes physical endeavors all the more awkward. I figured I should find out sooner rather than later, though, whether I can physically manage it.

She was actually surprisingly docile this time around. I remembered the tips Jared had given me previously, was sure to keep a hand on the back of her neck at all times, kept rubbing her vigorously throughout the bath to help her keep calm, etc. It actually turned out fine. I was a little sweaty and worn out afterward (it's becoming a bit of a theme in my life), but both dogs look great at the moment. Mission accomplished! Now on to the next big-dog adventure.