stoutfellow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stoutfellow) wrote2007-06-29 07:13 pm
stoutfellow) wrote2007-06-29 07:13 pm
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Trip to the Vet
I took Ben in for his shots this morning. It was pretty humid, but the temperature was in the low 70s F, so the walk wasn't too hard on him. (He was pretty thirsty when we got there, and slurped up the bowl of water they gave him.)
While we were waiting, a kid - tubby little fellow, maybe eight or nine - came over and asked if he could pet the dog. I okayed it; he was very careful and gentle, just brushing Ben's flank with his fingers - nothing rough. We talked about dogs; he wondered what kind of dog Ben was, and guessed that he had some schnauzer in him. (Not an unreasonable guess; whether it's right, I have no idea.) He said he wanted to be a vet when he grew up, and I think he might. I know, what a kid wants at age eight and what s/he grows into don't necessarily match, but this boy knew his stuff, descriptive and normative both. I was impressed.
Ben's in pretty good shape for his age. They took blood, and they'll let me know when the lab report comes in. (I'm planning on having them work on his teeth next month, and bloodwork is necessary for that.) He's got a fatty tumor on his chest - has had for some years now. It's nothing dangerous, but it's grown quite a bit in the last year and it's starting to hamper his walking - he kind of waddles. The vet also had a little trouble hearing his heart through the fat, so something needs to be done. They'll anesthetize him for the dental work, and while he's under they'll drain some of the fat.
Afterward, one of the assistants took pity on Ben and offered us a ride home, which I accepted. I like that place; they're a bit expensive, but they do good work, and they go the extra mile.
While we were waiting, a kid - tubby little fellow, maybe eight or nine - came over and asked if he could pet the dog. I okayed it; he was very careful and gentle, just brushing Ben's flank with his fingers - nothing rough. We talked about dogs; he wondered what kind of dog Ben was, and guessed that he had some schnauzer in him. (Not an unreasonable guess; whether it's right, I have no idea.) He said he wanted to be a vet when he grew up, and I think he might. I know, what a kid wants at age eight and what s/he grows into don't necessarily match, but this boy knew his stuff, descriptive and normative both. I was impressed.
Ben's in pretty good shape for his age. They took blood, and they'll let me know when the lab report comes in. (I'm planning on having them work on his teeth next month, and bloodwork is necessary for that.) He's got a fatty tumor on his chest - has had for some years now. It's nothing dangerous, but it's grown quite a bit in the last year and it's starting to hamper his walking - he kind of waddles. The vet also had a little trouble hearing his heart through the fat, so something needs to be done. They'll anesthetize him for the dental work, and while he's under they'll drain some of the fat.
Afterward, one of the assistants took pity on Ben and offered us a ride home, which I accepted. I like that place; they're a bit expensive, but they do good work, and they go the extra mile.