Thank God that Gambits various oriffices lock shut when he's stressed. Well, except for the one in front, as you shall see.
This story starts with a packed waiting room, as all humiliating stories do. Ever notice that the dog is never as bad when its just you and the vet? A tech appears to take Gambit to theback. I warn her that he will not walk for her and will need to be carried. She scoops him up, and he immediatly stiffens and jerks his front legs at angles. It looked like he was about to dance the 'walk like an egyption'. He also starts to whine. At this point a few people are shooting me sideways looks, but no one says anything. About 20 seconds of silence.
Then it begins. Oh, god, does it begin. The screams coming out of the back room could not have been loder if his leg had been caught in a bear trap. Now people are definitly staring, and I know that they were wondering just what I did to Gambit to #$%$ him up so badly.
The tech returns to see if I can come back and soothe him. I get to the back and he's sitting there on the table screaming at full volume. No one is touching him. No one ks even close to him. But he's not shutting up. I try, but he's not calming down, so we just stick him as quickly as possible and I pick him back up. By the way, he didn't seem to notice the actual stick at all.
Gambit is latched on to me, paws hooked over my shoulders and hind legs clinging to my waist. This, naturally, puts his mouth right at my ear so he can scream right into it. Those who have heard a coyote shriek know exactly what I'm talking about.
So we do the walk/carry of shame back through the lobby, where no one is even pretending to be reading the magazines anymore, and are probablyx rethinking using this vet. I call to thereceptionist that I'm putting him in the car and will be back to pay. For some strange reason, she looks relieved to hear this.
I toss him in the car and go back inside, tring to avoid eye contact with other customers. Then I look out the window. Gambit has crammed himself onto the dashboard and ks still screaming. Of course, I can't hear him now, so all I see is his mouth gaping open and closed.
The wailing continues right until I start the engine, at which point he shuts up, starts wagging his tail, and lays his head on my thigh as if to say 'ok Mom, you're back and the world makes sense again. Are we till going to McDonalds for out post vet treat?'
Yes, I took him for a treat. In his defense, he did much better the next year.
But at ,east I wasn't sprayed with pee, so there are small things to be grateful for:lol-sign: