Vet’nry

At no time is the difference in the personalities of my dogs more apparent than at the vet. Mama and I took the noble hound and the pudgy collie in today for their check ups and injections.

First, Stitch loves car rides. Loves them. So exciting. Could be going anywhere, get to see so much stuff and oh lord oh lord oh lord another dog! LOOK LOOK ANOTHER DOG! Noddy, on the other hand, tends to look like he’s just been thrashed with a stick and is about to get a second round. He is, admittedly, better than he was as a younger dog, when he would have to be manhandled into the car. He leaps in quite happily now, but does spend most of the trip trying to escape out of the rear window.  Stitch spends the trip with his head between the two front seats, crying with excitement and trying to look at everything at once, while thwacking Noddy on the head with his wagging tail.

Once at the vet clinic, they are again quite marked in their personalities. They both trot quite happily up to the door, but Noddy digs his fuzzy little feet in on the doorstep and refuses to go any further. Stitch bounds in, ready for love and attention from the nurses. The smells of other dogs drive him into a high pitched whine of thrill. He can’t possibly sit, can’t sit, nope can’t sit, too excited, more pats.  Noddy, having been dragged into the waiting room, then has to be lifted onto the scale because frankly this is all too scary and he tends to lose the use of his legs.

Once in the examination room (they go in together), Stitch is lifted onto the table and spends a very happy few minutes pretty much ignoring the vet while he peers out the window. Noddy spends this time with his paws on the table to see what’s being done to Stitch, or else hiding behind Mamas legs, or my bag, or under the table, or under the vet. Not fussed really, hiding is good. Stitch is usually all good for the ear, teeth and eye check, but once the belly squeezing and temperature readings start he gets a bit less enthused about the whole experience and is very ready to jump down once the exam is over. He then waits by the door with his lead in his mouth, crying. Ready to go now please.

Noddy becomes a dead weight with awkward legs when lifted onto the table, and then tends to go for the falling down approach to problem management.  At every chance he tries to make a jump for the floor, only to be thwarted by people who seem to be able to read his mind, and keep a grip on his harness.

At the end of the exam, Nodders is more than glad to accept a handful of liver treats in compensation for his pain and suffering. Stitch tends to refuse these, preferring an ear rub or chest scratch.  Noddy also likes to try and get the lid off the liver treats jar while his health is chatted about. Crafty little sod.

With Stitch declared in fine fettle and Noddy on a diet (again), we leave the vets in a tangle of leads and legs and chaos. The way home is much the same, with Stitch staring out of the windscreen and crying, and Noddy trying to crawl out the back window.  Such little nutters my boys.

(PS. Veterinarian is pronounced “Vet’nry” (vet nn ree) in this house, as a nod to James Herroit)