Dog-day afternoon

Pat Fule
Fule for Thought

 

Our family dog is named Brodie. He’s now 15-years-old and we’ve started calling him Grandpa. He doesn’t move as fast as he used, and sometimes his back leg will slide out on him.
We thought it was because our new house has hardwood floors, but we’ve been told by the vet that his legs aren’t getting strong nervous signals, so they give out. I bet he’s thrilled to have a lot of hardwood, so that he can basically feel like he’s learning to ice skate! We also have a set of fairly steep stairs to the basement, and there are times he’ll sit at the bottom, look up, then look sadly bark at us. We’ve decided being 90 in dog years, has earned him to right to get some “elevator carries” up and down the stairs. When he does go up on his own, he has to use both back legs hitting at the same time to make it. It’s like he’s making an assault on Everest, because he has to stop part way, rest, and then carry on!
Actually, the only time has really has any energy, is right after he takes a poop. For a few minutes, he’s like a pup again … he sprints in, races around for a few minutes, and looks quite happy (or is that relief?). Right after he’s done, I will never understand why he feels the need to circle back, and smell the poop. He’s got to know it’s there, does he really have to double check … what else would be there!?
He had a recent vet check up to see if his bladder crystals have returned. Luckily, he had a really good visit, and the vet was thrilled at how good he looks and acts for a 90-year-old dog.
She kind of tricked me, or at least it felt like it to me! She moved down to his hindquarters, and asked me to come down there and hold his hips. Now, she had been testing all his joints for pain, and signs of arthritis, so I thought it’d be more of the same. Oh no, then she uttered the words: “I’m going to express his anal glands now.”
Express his anal glands, what the heck does that mean? I found out immediately. There’s no real way to prepare yourself for a smell like that, and of course to be thorough, Doc had to show me! The smell that greeted me, as I was almost face to butt with him, was horrendous! It was like a mixture of dog crap, rotten potatoes, with a just hint of death thrown in, for good measure! Now, I was a janitor for six summers in high school and university, so I’ve had to clean my share of all kinds of messes.
None of that prepared me for the sheer horror of this! I felt like the smell was all around me, in me, on my clothes … I could almost taste it and I wanted to gag. That’s when she said, “the old dogs are the worst, but Brodie is nothing compared to an old black lab I did last week. I thought I was going to be sick!”
I couldn’t believe it, I had just smelled the worst thing ever, and she had shown me what she “expressed!” Smelling it, then being able to see it, was almost too much! I had to move to the front end!
It was then that Brodie’s and my eyes met. I must’ve looked awful, because he had a strange look on his face … well it looked like a strange gesture he made! Then it hit me, his look was more like, “I trusted you. You saw me shake all the way into this room, and you still let her do that?!?”
I felt guilty right away, and promised him a treat, forgetting that he’s also stone deaf! We left, and he stared me down all the way to DQ. Only a cheeseburger could make it up to him, and so we dined in the truck. I passed on sharing it with him this time – I had lost my appetite! It’s just as well – I still need to drop some blubber.
(“Fule for Thought” is a slice of life humourous column that appears in the Strathmore Times, written by long-time resident, town councillor, high school teacher, coach, husband and father of two – Pat Fule. If you would like to get in touch with Pat, you can send him an e-mail at Pat.fule@shaw.ca)