Phydoux is abruptly hauled off to see the Vet. He shares his experiences.
Well, it happened again! I thought we were going to take a fun ride around town. My master got the leash and said, “Let’s take a trip.” Boy, was I happy. He used to take me on trips all the time. We would drive out to the park and watch the cats fight. We’d go down to the ball park and watch a baseball game. It’s so fun to ride in that car with our head stuck out the window and the wind blowing in our face. Of course he didn’t drive too well with his head out the window.
He fooled me this time. We ended up at the doctor’s office — the vet’s place. I could smell it two miles away. Those cats really stink. The medicine smells bad too. I don’t know why that place has to be so clean. You’d think they expected us to live there. Well, I guess I do when my owner leaves for a few days. He says he’s going to have me boarded. I’m glad that is not done literally.
It’s no fun to have an examination. First of all, what is wrong with my mouth for the thermometer? I’ve seen people get the thermometer placed in their mouth. Not us dogs. You know, we don’t have much privacy. Everything we do is right there for people to watch. We can’t even relieve ourselves without people watching. This crazy doctor even took a sample for testing. I can only imagine what that involved.
But back to the thermometer. You know where they put it. I was headed north and they placed it in my farthest south extremity. Why did they need to know my temperature? I think they were just trying to humiliate me so I would not cause trouble. Well, it didn’t work. Each time the vet got close with that pointed thing, I growled at him. When he finally succeeded I let out a blood-curdling whimper. It did no good.
He looked in my ears and listened to my heart with that round thing connected to his ears. He looked in my mouth. Then came those awful words, “he has tartar and we need to clean his teeth.” I’m sorry, it’s impossible for me to floss. I can’t hold a toothbrush either. Now if they had toothpaste that tasted like beef or chicken, I might figure out a way to get it done. Before we were pets we used to gnaw on bones to get rid of the tartar. But you decided that was dangerous and now we have to have you clean our teeth.
He finished this torture with a couple of shots and said, “Good doggie!” I hate that phrase. He patted me on the head, which I also hate. He is so insincere. We were ready to leave but I got even. He handed my owner the bill and he broke out in a sweat. He mumbled something like, “Boy, it’s gone up.” The sweat poured off his face as he wrote the check. I wish I had access to a computer so I could have said to the vet, “Take his temperature!”
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Reviewed by chris stienstra
9/26/2007
Phydoux got the raw end of this deal! Mama Kitty does take exception to the reference about the "odor" of cats. However, since it is Phydoux,she will make an exception. Thanks Larry for another laughable adventure.
My best regards,
Chris
Larry, I think Phydoux speaks for dogs all over the world.
When you gonna' take him for a shampoo and beauty spa treatment?
I'm waaaating. Take another drink of that weirdness juice, but this time give some to Phydoux. Then, he might not mind the doggie spa.
Poor Phydoux! Glad it was just a checkup and shots. Gus (my PWD, not my husband) balks at the vet door and once inside stands with his nose pressed against the glass hoping to escape. We'll have to all meet at the doggie park sometime...
Fun read - thanks for the Phydoux series!
Ho Ho! Love the ending! I've got four of these rascally old mutts, and they all love ridin in the old truck, and they all somehow know when the ride will end up at the vet's office. You should see me sweat, and my mutts grin - big time in revenge, when I get the bill!
Puffy strays and something happens to make him decide he will never run away again. Judged "Outstanding" at the 2013 Writers Digest SPB Awards. Named among the best in family-friendly media, products and services 2019 by the Mom’s Choice Awards®.
