The end result

My last patient of the day on Friday involved me blow drying the floofy tail and hindquarters of a handsome, long-haired, blue merle chihuahua. He was there for his regular spa things: nail trim, anal sac expression. All with a muzzle, though, for he was of the land shark category. But what surprised me, as I lifted his tail to express his glands, was that he just got ready, braced himself, planting his tiny feet firmly, head forward, uncomplaining, set for the usual but brief discomfort. Like he was saying, Oh just get it over with.

My mother used to tell me there were things I would have to do no matter how much I didn’t want to. As a kid I never believed her, and secretly thought I’d find those loopholes. But of course, mothers are right. Things like mammograms, taxes, cutting the summer grass, taking out the garbage, and eating fiber. 

Bike path graffiti: O, you stab my heart.

For Tiny Dog, her list of I Wish I Didn't's include: getting a sweater on, waiting to only get two meals per day, being held for a nail trim, and being tricked into eating lettuce, thinking it was something actually delicious.

The reason I was blowing drying the fancy pants of this small dog was that anal sac expression can catch you off guard. (Ask any vet how the stuff has catapulted into his/her hair at least once.)  And so, the secretions we’ll call them, ended up in his pretty tail and leg fur.  He then submitted without complaint to the butt clean and the hair dryer. The muzzle came off, he shook off the recent events, and when set on the floor, trotted happily back to mom.