The joke’s on me. Of course, the joke’s always on me.

So, Lexi’s home and all is (crossed fingers!) well with her little operation. But as the assistant went over her after-procedure care instructions with me, it became very clear that Lexi must have performed at least one or two inside tail-tucking sessions and they fully intended to get back at me for all the trouble she caused. This is what she said to me. “You have to keep her quiet and calm until the weekend.” I looked at her and studied her face for signs of a sly grin beginning to emerge. I waited to share a giggle or a healthy guffaw at that one. It was going to be great to get a really healthy belly laugh out. I hadn’t laughed like I was going to laugh at this one in days and this was good stuff, baby. But, you guys, she was totally serious. Totally. I looked at her and said, “Come again? Have you met this dog? Can I take her for some quiet, controlled walks to help her work out some of that pent up energy?” She said, “No.” I waited for some ideas. I gave her the encouraging look. I got nothing. And it was clear that she wanted to help. She just had nothing for me. They actually like Lexi, and though she is a “spirited” puppy, they are always happy to see her. But, she had nothing. Basically, good luck getting through this, lady.

When I got home, I read through the rest of the instructions and saw that I was supposed to do the compress thing again. Oh great! OH HAPPY DAY!!! That went like gangbusters the last time I had that assignment, so yippee and huzzah! A little farther down as you’d expect, it says to discourage the dog from licking the incision site. Duh, of course. But, talk about asking for the near-impossible….

So, this morning, I expected Lexi to still be feeling a little slow since the operation was just yesterday. I expected that tomorrow and Friday would be my days of hell. But, no buddy. Lexi is an overachiever. This morning she is bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. When I took her out for her morning constitutional on her leash, she moseyed over to the outside bin where we keep her training toys and looked at me suggestively. Like, you’d best be grabbing that toy and giving it a good toss so I can get to fetching. I’ve got at least three tail-tucking sessions scheduled for 9, so we’ve got to get moving, mom. Also, I’m going to follow up my tail-tucking sessions with about an hour of licking my incision. I’ll probably nap after that giving you at least some time where you can be off duty. Enjoy that time because the entire cycle starts again after my nap. Love ya, mom. Also? I still haven’t forgiven you for letting them cut me.


Today Lexi gets the ol’ snipperoo.

Is it disrespectful to call her spay the ol’ snipperoo? If so, my sincere apologies. Lexi isn’t allowed food this morning before we drop her off. That’s a major affront to a lab puppy, and she has let us know in no uncertain terms that this is unacceptable. There have been multiple instances of inside tail tucking. We’ve all held onto each other and waited for them to end. After each break with reality, she’s ended up on the floor panting and looking around as if to say, “Was I responsible for all that mayhem?” Our faces give her a swift affirmative answer. She then begins to remember that she hasn’t received her breakfast yet, and suggestively leads us to her food bowl to begin the routine all over again. The routine goes like this:

  • Lexi goes over to her food bowl and looks inside. She sees there is no food in there. She looks around and notices that nobody is there beside her to feel the despair that she is feeling.
  • Lexi makes some noise and waits for someone to come over to join her at her food bowl. We don’t comply because we are laying low. This is round 2. We learned our lesson in round 1.
  • Lexi comes over to us and gives us the EYES. It works because we know she won’t stop. We solemnly walk over to her food bowl with her to view the sad display that is an empty food bowl. We try to explain to her that she is not allowed to eat before the “procedure” but all she hears is “my human pack members hate me and want me to die why won’t they feed me they already don’t feed me all day long which is bad enough now they aren’t feeding me in the morning like they should they are the worst human pack members ever.”
  • Lexi tries to move her bowl around a couple of times as a last ditch effort to make sure we are getting the message in case we are just really really stupid.
  • We all leave the room because the silence has become uncomfortable, and we want to escape the EYES.
  • Lexi begins the tail tuck process.
  • Lather, rinse, repeat.

I have no idea how the poor, unsuspecting people at the vet’s office are going to deal with this madness. I really love our vet, so I’m going to play dumb when we take her in and hope she doesn’t subject them to a tail tuck episode.









UPDATE: She’s home!! Just like our last dog, Nikki, did after she was spayed, Lexi won’t look at me or speak to me. Every time I tried to catch her eyes on the way home to communicate my sympathy, she’d look the other way. She’s clearly in pain, so I wouldn’t give me the time of day either. If I could speak her language, I would tell her that it’s killing me to see her in pain. I doubt that would make her feel better though.

Canine friends, I may have a problem.

Um, I’m a little concerned. Or, I don’t know if I should be concerned. OK, I’ll tell you the situation, and you tell me if I should be concerned. I was at the vet’s office getting a check-up after my visit to the joint and I heard my human mom talking to the doc about some “procedure” that was coming up. I heard them talking about how this “procedure” used to result in an overnight stay for the dog, but now the dog can go home the same day. Then the conversation became a little alarming. The doc said this was because the drugs used to make the dog throw up, and so it was important to have someone checking on the dog to make sure that the STITCHES didn’t come out when the dog threw up. Let me say that again: STITCHES!!! Does anyone know what “procedure” this is and if I should be planning to run away from home? I want no part of these STITCHES, and this “procedure” is scheduled for July 16th so I need to get some planning done pretty quickly if I need to vamoose.