Vet Schmet

So today it was off to the vet, with Pogisa sans diaper. I decided to take my chances and stuffed a roll of paper towels into my purse like a good Girl Scout, preparing for the inevitable. I just couldn’t bring myself to sit through 4 or more hours of humiliation, to say nothing of the diapered dog’s.

It was really unnecessary to begin explaining the reason for our visit because Poe, ever accommodating, illustrated the problem the minute the vet greeted her by promptly flipping onto her back, assuming the position, and spewing forth her liquid offering of submission. The vet came to the same conclusion I did--Pogisa is neurotic and has a self-esteem problem. In an effort to ferret out solutions for this, it was concluded that I need to brush up Poe’s resume and get her a job. Evidently, having a job is quite an image elevator for dogs. (I guess being a stay-at-home pet just isn’t fulfilling enough.) This in addition to spending untold amounts of money on agility or clicker training so she can flaunt her newly acquired skills in front of her peers, and lastly, I am also to have her listen to self-hypnosis tapes every night that tell her she’s good enough, smart enough, and gosh darn it, people like her. (Okay, that last bit might just be an elaboration on my part.) The absolutely worst thing we can do is punish, yell, demean, shame, reproach, abase or otherwise call attention to The Dog’s “little accidents,” to which Dave’s response was, “But it makes me feel better,” and I had to agree. Instead, we are to avoid eye contact, quietly mop up the puddle or trail of pee, whichever the situation may require, and tell her she’s looking very pretty today.

As a very last resort, we would have to put her on an antidepressant or benzo.

To be honest, none of this was a revelation to me. I was frankly just hoping the doctor could give her doggy Detrol and send us on our way. I mean what are doctors for anyway but dispensing those life altering substances that we all know and love? Cause goodness knows that the majority of the time everything they tell me I’ve already figured out from WebMD (or in this case the multitude of dog advice sites on the World Wide Web). I’m just too lazy and impatient to do the self-treatment and await the results. Like any good American, I would much rather pop a pill and be on my way. Worthless quacks.

Now, excuse me while I go search Monster.com for positions for puppies.