My, What Big Teeth You Have Granny...

Yesterday I had to go to the veterinarian. I have decided that I should go back to school and become a veterinarian... because the prices they charge are ridiculous!

Our dog Sophie has horrible breath. She also has separation anxiety which means that every time we leave the house we have to put her in a pen in the garage because she is not trusted to be alone indoors. She has been known to scratch, bite and claw her way through a slatted door and then manage to pull the insulation between the door and the door frame completely out. She is a maniac... a psycho... but she loves us, so we keep her.

When we first moved here I needed to update her shots. I should have done it in good ol' Nebraska where you can pay your vet with some chicken feed if you need to. Here in VA... they want cold hard cash, and they want a lot of it. I walked out of the Animal Hospital in shock from paying a $300 bill. FOR A DOG! This time around I was determined to not pay so much so I started shopping around for a vet to clean her teeth. Again, back in Nebraska it was no big deal to call and make an appointment for Sophie to get her teeth cleaned... here I have to second mortgage my house and budget before I can schedule the appointment.

I had to go in for an "initial" visit so that the Vet could see Sophie before he cleans her teeth... I had all of her shot records with me, so I did not know why he would need to see her, but whatever.

I load Sophie into the car (which is the easiest part of going to the Vet). Sophie will bound into the car with pure joy. She sits in the back with her tongue hanging out and her breath permeating the air. She is so excited to be going for a ride... in the car... to anywhere! Her demeanor changed dramatically the moment we pulled into the parking lot. Her and I both looked at the building. She was only thinking of torture techniques I am sure, whereas I looked at the double wide trailer and saw some cheap prices on the horizon.

I continue to drag her into the trailer/office while she is attempting her Michael Jackson impersonation of the moon walk. Her mouth is now fully open and her tongue has become the length of a toddler's arm hanging out of it. She is in full-panic mode.

We wait in the trailer/waiting area that smells of disinfectant and urine combined with a little wet dog hair and bad breath and I start to understand why the receptionist has a constant pinched look on her face. Finally, we are called to see the Vet. I drag Sophie through the back doors (which remind me of the back door to the pawn shop in the movie "Pulp Fiction" but I quickly put those images out of my mind) and we sit in another room waiting.

Sophie has crazy eyes now. She is crying and making every attempt to jump into my lap. Her hair is flying off of her body and she is breathing so hard one would think she was just strapped to our bumper and ran along the car the entire way to the Vet. Finally... the Vet comes in and engages me in small talk. Looking at my protruding pregnant belly (which always gives me the creeps when men look at my prego belly) he starts to tell me about his 3 children who are all in college. While he is giving me the 411 on how brilliant his children are, he is listening to Sophie's heart rate and feeling her tummy. 2 seconds later he says she is all set to come in for a teeth cleaning and to see the receptionist to schedule it.

I head back to the waiting area with Sophie dragging me toward the door and stop to make my appointment and pay for the 2 second check-up. $50 later we are out the door and on our way home. $50???? For what??? A story about your kids (who I am apparently now helping to put through college) and you feeling up my dog? What a scam!

There will be no pedicures for me this month, just so the dog can have pleasant breath. I will tell you one thing... I better not catch her outside eating her poop when this is all said and done!