Isn't the Answer Always Yes?
Modern Medical Technology A Blessing or a Curse? Veterinarians. For those of us with pets, we also have a vet. And, it must be said, those vets have us.
Yesterday we took Willie for a check up. Generally he’s great, but he does have a couple of little issues.
I don’t know about dogs. Never had one before. Love them, I love them to death, but caring for them — that’s all new to me. So the issues are with his rolly polly belly (better than before, but still really there) and his back legs — they don’t seem to have any strength. For a 3 month old puppy, it doesn’t seem right. So we get to the vet and he starts his exam. Now for me, what do I know? He peers here and palpitates there while asking me questions to remind himself of who we are and what he may have said already about this dog. His temperature is high (hot car ride? or something serious?). And then there’s talk about congenital issues – a possible enlarged liver, kidney issues, heart. And he kindly explains there’s no way to know without tests. Either blood or ultrasound. And while I think blood might make sense as a first step, it’s explained that ultrasound will let us know now. No pressure. It’s my choice. I should take my time. We have to leave him there for 1/2 hour anyway, so he can cool down and to give me time to think. To decide.
So here’s the thing. When asked “do you want the test?” — isn’t the answer always yes? Because you want to know. Because they have become family. Because you can, I guess. So of course we go for the ultrasound after 1/2 an hour of thinking how this lovely sweet creature may not have a long life, and all we’ll be able to do is manage the disease and feeling like I’m missing him already. Well, wouldn’t you know, no one is more surprised than the vet. Turns out, all the organs are fine. Everything vital is normal. There’s no indication of congenital anything. The only this wrong with this dog is constipation. Yeah. baby laxative and water and we should be good to go.
Harry figures the vet shouldv’e guessed when the puppy started farting during his exam. So we tell the story to our new friends (who are expecting) who are over with their two kids enjoying a wonderful, joyous laugh-filled dinner because we are already laughing at ourselves and it is such an amusing, ludicrous outcome.
That’s when they tell us they haven’t had their ultrasound yet because they don’t have the scratch.
Yeah. Thwack. Head butt. I’m speechless again as I write it.
Originally published March 22, 2012