She tore it when Angus, one of my mom’s Labs, slammed into her while sprinting toward the garage door. They’ve been playing canine kamikaze like that for years. This time she was just unlucky. I’d blame Dingus, as I call him, if he wasn’t the Forrest Gump of labra-dogs. Sort of. I doubt he’ll stumble into becoming a shrimp magnate.
Earlier this year Melissa had a laser procedure. A benign growth had formed just above her butt-hole, and was growing bigger.
(Sadly, I couldn't think of a euphemism for "butt-hole.")
(And at first, Mom and I thought it was a massive doggie hemorrhoid. This is why I’m not a vet).
Barring this year’s bad luck, I’ve never had to send Melissa to the vet for anything but check-ups. She’s lived with me since March 2004.
Excluding what she went through before I got her, she’s one of the healthiest dogs I’ve ever seen.
—
When Mom and I found Melissa back in ‘03, she was chained to a doghouse in my cousin’s next-door-neighbor’s backyard. She was so emaciated, a nearsighted person could’ve counted her ribs from far away. Despite that, her mammaries were bloated; she’d just given birth to a litter of eight puppies. And, after taking her and her pups off the congenial “owners,” the vet discovered she was heartworm positive.
(If you think all that was tough to read, I wish you could’ve witnessed it in person.)
But fear not. There’s a happy ending to this story.
We helped wean Melissa’s puppies and adopted them off to people we trusted. They’re all doing well. Meanwhile, Melissa did great with her heartworm treatment. By March of ’04 she had a clean bill of health. So far she’s lived in Austin, Winston-Salem, Chapel Hill and Atlanta. Quite a worldly pup. Well, at least regional-ly.
—
So does telling this story have a point? Indeed. Actually, there’s several:
1) My dog rules.
2) Rescue dogs are the way to go. Especially rescue Labs, since they are so many out there. I can’t explain it, but these dogs are fully aware of how lucky they are. And it shows. Plus, odds are you won’t have to deal with all the more harrowing aspects of raising a puppy (as in, Melissa practically housebroke herself).
3) My lack of respect for little dogs that yip-yip and act pissy for no reason is justified.
4) I have a perfectly justified reason for thinking Michael Vick is an asshole. After Leavenworth, Msr. “Bad Newz Kennelz” should spend at least a year cleaning shit out of Atlanta Humane Society cages.
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