Tuesday, May 14, 2013

The Cone

Hooray for the Humane Society!

I took the middle sized boy, Odin and the adopt-a-Chihuahua in to get fixed. A royal pain to haul them across town and wait for an hour to check in BUT at less than half the cost, and at the rate my puppy costs are escalating, I’m willing to trade some time for some dough! Plus, animal rescue, low cost vet care, adoption clinic; what is not to love?   

Oscar has to go to the special big-boy clinic which will be pack-a-snack distance and was a month booked out.  

We get there and Odin is so excited!  Granted he is two, but for Berners, two is still puppy.(Sweet, dumb, slow to mature and “Why yes, I am a lapdog!” My perfect pets.)  “Mom!! There are people and dogs and things to pee on and look they say I’m a good boy and this is awesome!! Can we stay forever!?!” 

We go get them that evening. The guy at the counter starts laughing.  “We heard their names all day long. They were hilarious.” 
I guess they were keeping them in separate kennels and there was extensive whining and crying.  So they bunked them together and, per usual, the dog that weighs one tenth of the other, pushed and shoved the big one around until he makes a comfortable a place and then he crashes. Napoleon with a bodyguard.   

Odin comes out, listing to the side, but tail wagging and trying his best to sniff all the dogs and beg for pats from all the people. Stumble, stumble, wall, stumble, stumble, fall against someone legs. Poor boy!

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