Truffles Lives

While we never got an answer as to why our little pooch's back legs stopped working on Monday night, Truffles is pretty well back to her usual annoying self. I took her to a second vet, her new regular doctor, on Wednesday for an exam and follow-up testing. I was reminded of how much training she still needs. If I was a restaurant owner and wanted to name a special dish after Truffles, it would be a large platter piled with broken sticks, used plastic cups, rotten garbage and cat fur. It's her favorite.

I saw a side of Truffles that I'd never seen before. When we finally got to a room, and I could stop pulling the leash and trying to distract her because she was the only dog in the waiting room that couldn't keep her shiz together and sit calmly, I felt better. The vet tech came at her with no gloves, no treats, and no game plan to jam a thermometer up her butt. The one other time Truffles had her temperature taken, I wasn't in the room so I don't know how that went, but I think I would have heard about it if Truffles almost bit someone's face off. She started snarling and growling like a little gargoyle and I didn't like it. The tech couldn't get an accurate reading and almost lost a chunk of her face. I don't have any experiencing with jamming things up a dog's butt, but I immediately felt that I would have planned better and probably restrained or muzzled the dog first. I don't think I'd let anyone jam anything up my butt without a fight, to be fair. However, Truffles was nasty and it was unpleasant.

The doctor came in and at first it was greetings and sweetness, but then the physical exam started and gargoyle Truffles came back. She's significantly less cute when she's baring her teeth and lunging for the jugular like a murderous meerkat. She got so tense that the physical exam was inconclusive, but we did send "samples" of "things" to the lab and they've all come back negative for bacteria and parasites. So, we're settling on gas, which is so disturbing and unsatisfying as an answer. This led my mom to tell me an awkward story about a tube and a hospital bed and the "days before private rooms" - so that was also horrific.

When Truffles and I got home from our new vet on Wednesday, I treated myself to a ginormo glass of wine, since I was recovering from Truffles' illness, and my husband leaving his laptop in a meeting at a conference in Hershey and not remembering until he got back to Philadelphia earlier in the day. He came home with a souvenir mug filled with Reese's Peanut Butter Cups freaking out about his lost computer that the hotel couldn't find. I spent about an hour talking to various departments there, getting the room another "security sweep" because he probably would've ended up yelling. Luckily, someone with the conference group spotted it, grabbed it to bring back to their office, and was kindly able to overnight it to Philly so he didn't have to drive back. Sometimes, I have two Truffles. . .I also let myself zone out to a terrible(awesome) episode of Toddlers & Tiaras, in which a five year old said she would never be a jack-o-lantern for Halloween because jack-o-lanterns are fat. I've been spending a lot of time the past two days reading up on training techniques from Cesar Milan to eliminate gargoyle behavior and eating crap off the ground. Also, thank you for all of the well wishes and helpful tips I received privately. I read them to Truffles and she felt loved, but refused to adopt a healthier lifestyle and stop eating other dog's puke. She said it was part of her free speech rights and you can't tell her what to eat, even if her poor dietary decisions have a negative impact on others.