Waggin' and naggin'

"We can never know about the things to come."

-- Anticipation, Carly Simon



My dad has been hounding me about my dog's health for the better part of a week. She squeals when she bumps up against something, moves her food dish around, grooms incessantly... but Sunday I really noticed that she was BIG. I mean, either I wasn't watching, or she puffed up overnight.

She weighed a little less than 40 pounds when I took her to the vet before the move. I'd bet she's pushing 70, with the bulk of that put on in the past few weeks.

"There's something wrong with your dog," Dad keeps barking at me.

I took her to the vet today. WHAT FUN. When I called to make an appointment, they said they were surprisingly slow for a Monday. Well, the doggie gods took care of that for me.

I walked up to the door at my appointed hour to find a weeping owner crouched outside with an animal wrapped in a towel and splatters of blood all around. Inside, there were at least three dogs bandaged up, either coming or going. There was a family of six that got the news while I was sitting there bantering with the youngest of the clan that their dog had to go NOW. If you ever thought a pack of howling wolves was impressive, imagine what four kids under 10 sound like when they learn Fluffy ain't going home.

At the end of our own visit -- two hours later -- Sarah let off her own melancholy howl just as they told me the tab for the visit. Now I really DO feel her pain.

As I strapped Zoe in her car seat, it occurred to me I hadn't really prepared her for this doggie doctor visit.

"Zoe, you don't have to tell EVERYONE after they pet Sarah that she eats poop."


There was no diagnosis off the bat. They took Sarah's blood and I managed to help get a miniscule urine sample by chasing my dog around the parking lot with a plastic tray. We'll get the results by Friday, they say, but the vet suspects a thyroid problem because Sarah gained so much weight so fast. I was skeptical about that assumption because I thought whatever it was she had must have caused the sudden girth to collect on her former waif-like dog figure.

I got home and told this all to my father. "Oh, that makes sense," he says. "I've been feeding her way more than normal."