Sometimes love...is gross
April 30, 2007
Recently it became clear to me that Carmi, our full-blooded mutt o’ love, was unwell. She shook her head violently and rubbed her ear against the carpet. Worst of all, she took to reaching up with her hind leg, fitting her toenails into her ear, and delicately scratching therein.
No, no. Actually WORST of all was how she would then lick her toenails. Enthusiastically.
Anyhow, fine. I get it. Something wrong with the ear. And so HI, HO, off to the vet we go.
The afternoon we ended up at the vet’s office I had all four kids in tow. That is, my three boys and 14 year old niece Kate. This vet’s office is in a pet supply store, and they thoughtfully provided us lots and lots and LOTS of time to peruse the many interesting things there are to SEE in a pet store, by making us wait 45 minutes after our appointment time to be seen.
So. That was nice.
One of the things the kids looked at was the cats that were there, available for adoption. The nice lady in charge of such things took them back and opened cages for them and answered their questions…until she realized that they weren’t planning on actually adopting any cats. At that point she shut down project Look At The Cats and shooed the kids out. I can’t blame her – I’m sure she had lots to do without showing the cats to a bunch of worthless non-adopters. However, Raphael didn’t get his turn to look at the cat he wanted to, and this broke his heart. He spent much of the remaining two hours (TWO! HOURS!) we were there weeping into my neck. “The cat LOVED me and he would reach his paw out like this [he demonstrated with a soft hand against my cheek] and touch me and I would pet him and I LOVED HIM and HE LOVED ME and I didn’t get to hold him AT ALL!”
Kate felt terrible, because she got to hold the cat she liked, and Raphael didn’t get his turn. It just wasn't her fault. No one’s fault, really. That’s the danger of giving your heart to a cat. Particularly if you’re a no-account non-adopter.
Anyhow, eventually we were led back for the exam. Correction: we were led back to a small, stifling room, to watch Carmi nervously emit drifts of dog hair into the air and listen to Raphael mourn the cat that loved him. After roughly the length of your average presidential primary the vet finally joined us and took a look at Carmi.
She’d have to take a swab of the ear, to see exactly what was growing there, and did I know that not brushing my dog’s teeth can get me sent directly to the seventh circle of hell?
Yes, I nodded, oh yes. Absolutely.
“And, by the way, could you take a look at that cyst on her shoulder again? It seems to be back.” She leaned in, poked around a bit, and gave the cyst an experimental squeeze.
It…popped.
She recoiled, one eye screwed shut, and mopped at her face.
I died.
Any sympathy I had for her, though, was erased by her next words.
“Wow, I’m glad my mouth was closed. There was this one time, when I was expressing an anal gland…”
I shall spare you the rest. I may have suppressed it, and shall require many years of expensive psychological treatment.
Gah.
Anyhow, eventually, several hours and dollars and instructions later, we were sent home with our dog, who turned out to have a yeast infection in her actual ear.
And now you all can be certain, absolutely, unshakably certain that I love that stupid yeasty dog. Because now I get to shove three pills down her throat every day, whilst great tidal waves of saliva work to repel them and drip on my feet. Once the pills are swallowed I get to follow that up by squirting one medicine in her ear, and when it’s been worked in there just right I am privileged to mop out the inside of the ear and the yeasty remains (which are, interestingly enough, sort of amber colored). After that I get ANOTHER medicine out of the fridge and put six drops of that in her ear and sort of massage it in.
When we have survived all THAT nonsense, I give Carmi a treat to thank her for her patience. She looks guilty, then gives her head a mighty shake, spraying me with leftover saliva and ear juice.
And I haven’t killed her once.
What’s more, yesterday I was petting her, and as my fingers worked through her silky coat, I found…there, on her shoulder…growing again…the cyst.
Well, if she likes peanut butter, you can try that for the pills. Bury them one at a time in a blob of peanut butter, and see if she'll swallow them. Yum!
Laura
Posted by: Laura | April 30, 2007 at 11:36 PM
You are DISALLOWED from posting that kind of entry with out adequate warnings about cysts, glands, juice, etc... Some of us out here are trying to have a minight snack. I just thank God I wasn't eating a big bowl of mashed potatoes or something. :::shudder:::
Glad she's ok, though. Even if her plight makes me all barfy... ;-)
Posted by: Sheri | May 01, 2007 at 12:06 AM
Don't forget the amount of money you had to pay for all that entertainment! Instead of going to college, your kids can stand on the corner with cardboard signs about needing money for a yeasty dog with cysts. I know I'd donate!
Posted by: Amma D | May 01, 2007 at 06:17 AM
You know, over the years you and I have talked about nearly everything. And I think this is the very first time, ever, that I need to say this to you: TMI, dude. *twitch*
Posted by: Mir | May 01, 2007 at 07:01 AM
I know it's wrong to laugh at other people's pain, but, well, oh well. I'm laughing. And I'm not ashamed of it, either, given the week it turns out to be here. Thank you for the laugh! Especially funny was the visual of you mopping up tidal waves of saliva. Hope the Yeasty Cyst dog gets better soon.
Posted by: Grasshopper Homeschooler | May 01, 2007 at 08:40 AM
Gah, indeed!
Posted by: Laura | May 01, 2007 at 09:01 AM
ah the joys of living with animals. :)
Posted by: shannon | May 01, 2007 at 09:42 AM
Grow-dee!
Posted by: Steff | May 01, 2007 at 11:06 AM
What a good Dog-Mom you are. It was probably my dog that did in the vet with the anal glands.
For the pills, if Carmi is a cheese or deli meat lover, and the suggested PB doesn't work, give them a try. Chelsea, our lovable mutt, liked her meds in Genoa Salami. Or Honey Ham. Those gave the fewest "give backs" of the pills.
Hope Carmi is on the mend soon and the next time you visit the vet it is a shorter, less painful, more cat-holding visit.
Posted by: Michelle | May 01, 2007 at 03:38 PM
poor carmi
Posted by: Anne | May 01, 2007 at 06:19 PM
Apple- cider vinegar is very strong, so it is not recommended that you apply it directly on the skin. However, it has many health benefits(including aiding in weight loss) and can be used both internally and externally. It will kill the yeast, but it will burn like crazy! The best external application is to add about a cup of it into your bathwater and take a nice hot bath. This will feel very relaxing and soothing and will help temporarily. It is not as effective long- term as the garlic suppositories however. ...
Posted by: | July 14, 2009 at 02:11 PM