Yesterday morning, Marley had her vet appointment to be spayed. The plan involved me dropping her off before I was to head to work, and Eric was to pick her up at 5 p.m. after the surgery. I've only been to the vet once as a passenger in the vehicle, so I was unsure exactly where I needed to go. I ended up turning down the wrong street and having to decide whether I should turn around or try another route. After several attempts to reach Eric on the cell phone for directions and a few unladylike choice words left for him on his voicemail, I reached out to my mother in law who brings her dog to the same vet. Luckily, she pointed me in the right direction so I could drop Marley off for her surgery.
Poor Marley didn't know what was coming, because the last time she was at the vet she received lots of treats and praise during her puppy socialization class. She was ecstatic to be back at this "fun" place and was scratching at the door to get in. She greeted each receptionist and wanted a nice pat on the head from the other pet owner waiting to see the vet. After a short stay in the waiting room, we went back and had her weighed. She's a slender 37.5 pounds and in great health. The vet came in, listened to her heart and sent the vet tech in to take her to the back room so she could be prepped to go under the knife.
Seething from the inability to reach my husband, added to the nervousness I felt after leaving my puppy at the vet for surgery, I was in for a long day at work. Luckily for Eric, he called to apologize and explain that he had fallen asleep and did not hear the cell phone ring. Although I was still irked by his lack of consideration since I clearly did not know exactly where I was going and he should have kept his eyes open until I called to give him the deets on when to pick Marley up, I couldn't stay mad at him for long. He has this irritating way of making me forgive him when I am clearly not ready to let him off the hook so easily. Maybe next time I'll have the will power to make him suffer with the silent treatment for more than 15 minutes. However, according to my male coworker, men typically look forward to getting the silent treatment. Apparently, it's the perfect time to catch up on their football stats. Thanks to this tidbit of information, I will have to get creative for the next time Eric is need of consequences. I digress.
I got home shortly after Marley came home from the vet to find her angry with me and still loopy from the anesthesia. She didn't even wag her tail when I went to check on her. She didn't try to leap into my arms as she typically does during a regular work week, nor did she want me to snuggle up next to her. Instead she turned away from me, leaving me a little heart broken. It didn't help that when Eric came into the room her tail started wagging. All the more proof that she saw me as the the evil mother who left her at the vet to get snipped, and Eric as her knight in shining armor who rescued her from that horrible place. This refueled my anger at Eric for not answering his phone when I called for directions. I got over it as the night went on and so did Marley's attitude toward me as the effects of the drugs wore off.
I slept on the couch to keep an eye on Marley who is under strict orders to take it easy for the next 2 weeks, and at 1, 3, and 5 a.m. Marley was up and wanting to play and show me love. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to keep a 5 month old puppy from doing laps in the back yard? Or from jumping up to show she wants to play catch? This is going to be a long 2 weeks of trying to control our hyperactive and wacky Labradoodle, but we'll do our best to keep her safe.
Please say a little prayer for my sanity.
No comments:
Post a Comment