Petey and the Vet

I (Lori) took Petey to the vet today.  He's been sort of lethargic lately and then the last couple of days has been having trouble walking.  He has a heart murmur so we've been warned to watch for the lethargy.  He also has arthritis in his back 'hip' joints.  We felt like the two things had flared up on him at once and he needed some help.  I mean really, the dog wasn't even grumpy.  It was like it was just too much trouble for him to get upset.

We were quite concerned.  We speculated as to what the prognosis would be and what sort of tests and/or procedures would be required.  We had that hard conversation about just how much time the old fellow had left and should we go for quality of life over quantity of years.  It wasn't a good evening, but it was a conversation that needed to happen.

I was alone to take Petey to the vet.  I was surprisingly calm about the whole thing.  I told Petey that we were going to the vet and the vet would make him feel better.  He let out a heavy sigh and wouldn't look at me in the car.  As if, he really knew what I said, but did not agree.  I also suggested that he behave but he was already ignoring me.  When we got there he would not get out of the car.  I had to carry him in.  He was a trembling mess when it was our turn to go back to the exam room.

On the exam table, it seemed that the important thing for him to do was to bury his head under my arm.  That was fine with me and the assistant.  As long as he was calm, we were OK.   He went willingly with her to the scale.  She had him walk so she could observe him.  It may be he thought she was taking him out of there.  Who knows?

They returned with the vet and another assistant.  I figured someone had read his chart and knew that the real Petey would show up any minute and reinforcements would be needed.  I suggested a muzzle since Petey had been snippy with us a time or two when we tried to check on his hips.  I also offered to leave,thinking he might behave a little better.  They agreed to the 'party hat' as the vet called the muzzle but said I should stay.

The assistant held Petey and the vet started her exam.  The second person merely observed and I answered questions as they arose.  Petey calmly stood and let the vet do her thing while casting woeful glances my direction.

Soon enough the exam was over and there was no request for x-rays or other extreme medical tests.  No discussion of end of life scenarios.  Even his heart murmur was the same as before.  It seems Petey has a type of worm caused most likely from swallowing a flea.  We were given some medication and sent home.

Petey was as good in the car on the way home as he has ever been in his whole life! I even went through the drive thru at the bank and he didn't mind.  (She didn't give him one of those nasty treats either, probably because she couldn't tell he was in the car.)  I gave him the medicine as soon as we got home.  He had a nice nap and now he's scurrying through the house like a young pup.

I have to shake my head at all of us.  John and me for thinking he was near death and Petey for acting like he was near death.  You'd think we'd learn.  We've lived with Petey long enough to know he's the drama dog.  Such is life with Petey.