Strange Complaints

This past week has been an adventure in patience and acceptance. Both our oldest doggo and my sister had doctor appointments, although only one of them got a pup cup afterwards. 

Sorry, sis.

I’m going to turn the focus of this column on the dog, as my sister, who is my mother’s child, tends to growl and snap her teeth at me if I mention her too much in this column.

Just like our mom, really.

Anyways, we took Maggie to the vet because she’s developed an insanely itchy looking rash all along her undercarriage. I say it’s insanely itchy looking because quite frankly she looks crazy with all the efforts she’s making to scratch it.

Aside from trying to scratch with her back legs - which doesn’t work as she’s torn her ACL in the past so her leg mechanics don’t exactly work according to their original blueprints. While she’s positive she’s scratching herself if you happen to catch sight of her you can just see that back leg waiving frantically in the air as if it’s got one heck of a tremor.

The most successful way she’s found to deal with the itch is to soldier crawl over every square inch of our backyard. It is at the very least a very disconcerting sight to see a nearly twelve year old dog grinding her way across the lawn as if she’s trying to earn the biggest tip she’s ever gotten.

I figure that’s why our lawn simply refuses to grow lately. It’s not the heat… no, that lawn has seen and experienced things it hasn’t recovered from

Well, the vet tells us that’s just an infection and quite frankly it’s the least of what concerns her.

Maggie apparently has what looks like at least one if not two growths, one in her stomach and one higher up near her heart. She’s also got some fluid sloshing around inside that shouldn’t be there.

As she’s around twelve and likely wouldn’t do well with anesthesia or any attempt at a surgery… let’s just say that Maggie is going to be spoiled even more than she currently is for however long she decides to let us bask in her weirdness.

We’re told that with proper management and care we could be looking at years instead of months.

So I guess I’ll wind my way down to the end of this column by telling those of you lucky enough to have your own four footed weirdo(s), please go hug them and spoil them for me.

Well, and for Maggie.

Until later…