Thursday, 28 February 2013

A visit to the vet

I am in tip-top, fabulous health and I am exceedingly beautiful.  My doctor said so.

On Wednesday Mum took me to see Doctor Ian for my check-up. We left Heidi at home to take care of things and we drove down to Doctor Ian's place.  It's not very far away, out in the trees and is surrounded by amazing smells.  Miss Jeanette's kennel place is right next door. WE had a quick walk around the garden and then we went inside.

I had to sit on the black scale to see how heavy I was...24 kilograms...and then I had to sit politely and wait until it was my turn.  This seemed very strange to me because we were the only ones there.  Who were we waiting for?

Then Doctor Ian came out and said to me how beautiful I was looking and did I want to come in to his room now.  I didn't want to go in but Mum made me go in anyway.  I know what is going to happen when I get in there and I have to say that I am not particularly fond of it.  Doctor Ian looked at my ears and my eyes and my teeth and listened to my chest and pushed my tummy and then.....yes, you guessed it,....he decided to take my temperature.  How rude!  How undignified!
Then I had to have a little sting on the neck before I could have some treats.

Mum and Doctor Ian had a chat about how good a guard dog I am, and how I never let another dog walk past unbarked at, and how clever I am at seeking out possums and pussy cats, and how I am fascinated (I wouldn't have said fascinated...intrigued perhaps, but not fascinated) by Dad's socks, and how I am a teeny bit scared of thunder and other big noises, and some other stuff that I can't remember right now.
Doctor Ian said he "knew the personality well".  I don't know what that means.  Then he said I have  anxiety issues and OCD.  Then he gave Mum some lollies for me to every day.

When we came home and Heidi and I had eaten the pig's ears that Mum have bought for us, I told Heidi about what Doctor Ian had said.  Heidi explained it all to me.  She said anxiety is when you get worried when dinner isn't served on time or when you get frightened by the storms. Heidi says that is perfectly normal for all intelligent dogs; after all, you would be silly not to be worried then, wouldn't you?  Heidi says OCD means Outstandingly Clever Dog and that I should be proud of that.

I have decided that Heidi is right. I am an Outstandingly Clever Dog.  Why else would I get to have the special lollies every day?

Signing off for now.
Trudy OCD

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