Dispatches from the Vet

Guest Blogger:
Mr. ParkHopper

So, after a night of fitful sleep on my part, our journey all to familiar to us down highways 27 and 50 began at around 10:15 this morning. For those who haven't been near our place in a while, 27 has endured quite possibly the longest road reconstruction project, other than the never ending I-4 debacle, known to man. Well, they decided to do a switch over yesterday, so now there are about 4 lanes of un-used space in the middle of the road between north and south bound lanes. Well… while exiting our complex this morning, turning left onto 27, and in the left turn lane with the left green turn arrow… imagine our surprise when we decided to play chicken with one of the early morning Wally World fuddy duddies. That's right, they apparently either A) Didn't take the turn lanes into consideration when the geniuses at the DOT planned out their "temporary fix" traffic pattern, or B) moron couldn't drive. Really, either is possible. But as WWFD blared his horn, I did escape and evasion techniques so we wouldn't get hit, and Jamie "waved hello."

The rest of the drive was uneventful. Our usual 40 minute drive to the vet, followed by 10-15 minutes in the waiting room, where we met Zoe the beagle, and then… The doctor. We haven't really talked about the vet himself. He is a very nice Hispanic gentleman. He's very soft spoken, but he's good. I believe Jamie said it best when she said that if we ever had need to take our cats to a vet, we would bypass the ones closest to us and go to him.

Well… The nice assistant came out and took our little girl back to the dreaded exam room. Jamie told me to just leave her our credit card, and go wait in the car. You see… when they put the staple in… that was rough. In case you didn't know, Zoepig will voice her displeasure at lots of things. But when she is in pain… that is a sound. I don't handle that sound very well. So, Jamie tried to save me the pain of hearing this sound. But I knew that Jamie needed support on this one, so I stayed firmly planted in the chair, bracing for the screams… That never came… ??? Literally 30 seconds to a minute after taking her back, the vet came out with a smile on his face, and a staple in his hand. He clapped his hands and said "Let's have a party!" Waaahhh?! That's it? It's over? Did I black out? Wow, good times! That's right folks, it appears the ordeal is over! Zoepig has no more metal in her head, only a small scab. And let's all knock on wood, find four leaved clovers, hang up horse shoes, toss salt, WHATEVER, that she will not scratch and open that sucker back up. Really though, it's been healing for a week and half without her doing anything to it, so I think we are okay!

After our 40 minute ride back home on the nicely new paved section of the road, Zoepig went back into her nice new play area, with fresh food, towels, and veggies, and promptly went to the chube, where she stayed at least until I came to work. I put some of her parsley in the chube with her as a peace offering, and she ate it all, so she's fine, just maybe a bit traumatized as usual with her dad's driving abilities. And thus, hopefully, ends yet another of life's little adventures. :o) If any of you need a good vet, and don't mind the LONG drive, just ask. :o) And now back to the resident blogger in the family.