Well That Was Fun

Can you feel the sarcasm? Because it's dripping, people, dripping. I just got back from taking Molly to the vets. While we were vacationing in the sunny south, Molly had her girly-bits taken out and she and Buddy boarded at the vets. Today was Take Out the Stitches Day. Oh Joy. Molly is a wonderful dog, she really is, but she is just a bundle of charged energy, going full-force with all her strength. And me? Not so much. So the two of us are in the van on the way to the vets. I always wrap the handle of the leash on the arm of Tigger's car seat with the actual leash behind his chair, which lets Molly sit where she wants to and gives her just enough room so that I can pet her while I'm driving, without her getting under my feet and taking over the driving part. We're almost to the vet's and all of sudden Molly is in the front seat! I'm thinking that I didn't have the leash hooked on properly or it came off of her collar somehow. So when we get to the vets, I notice her leash is dangling - she chewed through it and left me a lovely 6 inch piece to control her by. Dog!!! I managed to keep control of her while getting out of the van, and keep in mind that once we get to the vets all puppy training goes out the window because of the eleventy-hundred million different animal scents on the grass and the sounds of dogs barking inside, so keeping control of her on a normal sized leash with a handle is not an easy feat. So you have that picture in your mind, right? A six-month old black lab, full of energy, raring to go at 90 m/h, with a 6 inch leash dangling, and me...trying to hang on to her collar. We're walking up the path to the front door and Molly sees her reflection in the glass of the door. And barks at it. And lunges towards it. With me barely hanging on. You've seen people running and tripping at the same time, right? When they do the over-sized leg movements as they're trying not to fall? That was me. But my guardian angel kept me from falling (thanks, GA!). Okay, so now we're actually inside the building, and there's this lady sitting there with a horrified look on her face at the sight of us - and Molly of course is doing her deep bark - and this lady turns to protect her poodle from my ferocious beast. Her daughter was with her but was only horrified at first, until she saw Molly was actually nice and didn't try to eat their dog. So once we got into the waiting room, Molly was fine and sat like a good girl. Getting the stitches out was no big deal and Moll was happy to see everybody who works at the vets. And the vet loaned me a leash to get Molly back out to the van. And now I'm exhausted. And it really isn't any easier taking Buddy to the vets either, because while he's never chewed through his leash, he always needs to wear a muzzle. Yes, my little 12 lb Jack Russel needs to be muzzled at the vets. And he likes the girls who work there, just not anybody wearing a white doctor's coat. So barring anything unforeseen happening, we're good to go until next spring.