It's been one of those days. I knew it was headed south when I came downstairs this morning for breakfast and noticed the roll of paper towels sitting on the dining room table along with the floor cleaner spray. That usually means I'm going to be "treated" to an explanation of something that my dear hubby had to clean up when HE came down for breakfast before me.
I didn't have long to wait. It seems our dog, Fresca...a miniature American Eskimo, had a little accident in the night plus she had thrown up. This is very unlike her. She just doesn't have accidents in the house.
As I sat there mulling this over, I noticed that Fresca was acting very strange. She was acting even more neurotic than she usually does. First she'd jump up into one chair, turn around in circles and plop down. Then, two seconds later, she'd stand up and jump down and go to the other chair and repeat the same process.....turning, turning, turning and then plopping down. Two seconds later she'd jump down and turn her circles on the floor. She just couldn't seem to get settled and this turning had me baffled. If I didn't know that she had been spayed 7 years earlier, I would have thought she was trying to nest.
I watched her throughout the morning as she twisted her blanket in my craft room into a heap going through her circling and rooting motions and then did the same thing to the bedspread and blankets in the guest room. This was getting downright wierd. So I called her vet and made an appointment to bring her over in the afternoon.
Let me just say that I HATE taking Fresca to the vet because she always makes a big scene while we are there. We merely have to walk in the door and she starts with the attitude. Today was no exception. You know, looking at her you would think that Fresca is this happy, little ball of fluff. Well, that little fluff ball turns into a tiger when she arrives at the vet's office. We careened into the waiting room and I barely had enough time to slap the urine sample (and that's a whole 'nother story which I won't go into) on the receptionist's counter before she tried to take on a Rhodesian Ridgeback. He didn't look too impressed so she peered around for other victims.
Before we were called into the examining room, she had terrorized two tiny Yorkies, one of which had to be taken outside into the fresh air by his owner because I think the little thing fainted. Fresca berated a nervous Shih Tzu so loudly that the poor thing had an accident on his owner's lap. "Don't worry," the owner graciously assured me as she pulled out a kleenex. "I needed a stool sample anyway."
The door opened and a big, black lab started in. One look at Fresca's yapping face and the poor thing tried to escape back out the door so fast that it almost knocked its owner over. During all this, I was trying all of the Dog Whisperer's tricks I could think of, to no avail. I think it would have taken an elephant tranquilizer to get "calm and submissive" at this point.
We finally got in to see the vet, who got so fed up with Fresca's attitude that she hoisted her up, carried her to the back and muzzled her to finish the exam. That was fine with me. I was just glad for a little peace and quiet. After all that drama and $80 later, they couldn't find anything wrong with her. Her vocal chords were certainly fine because she had to give the waiting room another piece of her mind while I paid the bill.
One dog owner gallantly said, "Beautiful animal. American Eskie?"
"Yup," I shouted over the din.
"They've got a lot of energy," he continued.
"You can say that again," I responded and then we beat a hasty retreat out the door. Well, in Fresca's case it was more like a "charge." As we headed for the car, we passed the Yorkie and his owner who was cradling him like a baby.
"It's safe now. You can take him inside," I assured him. "This bad girl's going home."