When we made the appointment for Jack’s castration (let’s just call it what it is) I knew it was on the fourth anniversary of my father’s death. I wanted it done on a Friday so that Paul would be home over the weekend to help with any complications or difficulties. What I didn’t know was that some guy in Europe was going to get fired necessitating Paul’s boss to go to Germany and Paul to go to Taiwan in his place. Fantastic.
Since this trip came out of nowhere, in the middle of a busy time, punctuated by a couple puppy medical emergencies, it was only a few days before Paul left that I remembered I would be handling this gig solo. All I could do was sigh.
Until the vet mentioned it this morning, the cone was not on my radar. “How long will he have to wear it?” I asked.
“Five days,” she said, but it might as well have been fifty. Oh Sweet Tallulah Belle!
“He’s going to be a tired boy tonight,” she said and I mentally crossed Day One off the list.
At that moment he was practically frothing at the mouth in his excitement to greet and sniff sniff sniff her hands. He knows that to say hello he has to stay DOWN and OFF. He’d pop a squat and then hop up, jump and lunge, drop down for a second and then repeat the cycle, his tail a constant wag. He finally settled down long enough for her to greet him.
I told her about the way he will whine and bark if he is separated from me by more than ten feet.
“You’re clearly his Alpha Dog,” she said and then gave me some tips on how to deal with it.
I just thought he was a Mama’s boy.
Tonight when we picked him up (at 5:50, thank you very much) I could hear his loud barking from the back.
“He hates the cone,” the receptionist said, “I felt so bad when we put it on. He has such a cute little face. I just love him.”
People who work with animals tend to be kindly souls and I find that they project their own generosity of heart and love for animals on the people who choose to own them. I am grateful for this goodwill.
The vet came out as I was trying to settle the bill and restrain Jack who was bashing his cone into everything and everyone.
“He’s not as sleepy as I’d like,” she said.
You and me both, Sister.
It has been a chaotic night but I’m used to that. As the Alpha Dog to this puppy and, while Paul’s gone, the household in general, I can handle it.
traveling paul says
“Alpha Dog” is priceless; as is the first picture of Jack with the cone. Thank you for managing it so well, in spite of my absence.
S Dawg says
Man, that’s fa-shizzle!
Sherry C says
Poor, sad Jack.
How does it feel to be an alpha dog? That’s quite an honor, I’d think.
Paul, you’re welcome.
Sherry, it’s a dubious honor, at best. It feels like being his mom – “Sit. Stay. Quiet. Leave it!SIt!Leave It! Down! OFFSettle down, Jack…I love you, what a good boy.”