Puppy Prozac

I suppose I should update you on last week's veterinary adventure. When we returned to the vet's office to pick up our doped dog whose ears were now sparkling clean, Mike and I took bets on how much this little visit would cost us. He was guessing in the low 100's, while my guess was closer to $150. We weren't even close, but the bill-paying comes at the end, so I'll keep you in suspense.

While in the waiting room, the back door opened and we saw a glimpse of Crockett as he was being brought out of his drug-induced slumber. He was standing, but his eyes were glazed over like jelly donuts. Poor guy. The vet finally called us into her office, and as we sat, she told us they had found not one ear infection, but a bacterial infection in both of his ears. Lovely. We are to watch for future ear infections, as this can be a sign of allergies. Allergies? Are you kidding? Why is it that with my animal, one problem inevitably leads to another? Oh well. I guess I just have to hope that this isn't the case.

While this doctor was talking to us, her eyes were really wide, she was using her hands to gesture a lot, and she was talking really slow. We felt like kindergartners in the Principal's office. Anyway, the good doctor asked me, "So, you said your dad was rough with the dog?" Oh crud.

When we dropped Crockett off, apparently I had said that we noticed him crying when my dad was being "rough" with the dog. I know how that sounds, but what I meant was that he plays rougher with the dogs than Mike or I do. And I know that sounds bad too. But he wrestles with the dogs, whereas Mike and I really don't do that. This lady probably thinks my poor father is the next Michael Vick. I assured her that no, I had meant rough playing, not abuse, so hopefully there won't be "Wanted" signs with Bob's photo on it the next time he comes to visit.

Once we got that little misunderstanding cleared up, the vet talked to us about the anxiety medicine. Basically there are two medications that he is now taking: a daily anti-depressant and a special pill for when we leave him alone. Wouldn't it be funny if after a week or so of being on the medication he just goes in the crate on his own and falls asleep? That would be just my luck.

Along with the medicine, there are other things we're supposed to be doing to condition him that being left alone isn't all that bad. For one, he's not allowed on the bed anymore. This thrills me because I never wanted him to sleep on the bed in the first place. So far, that part has been going well. We're also supposed to "encourage his independence" and praise him when he goes off by himself or plays with a toy that doesn't involve us. Independence? I thought I was raising a dog, not an adolescent. It's not as if Crockett is going to be going behind the wheel of an automobile anytime soon.

Along with encouraging his independence, we are basically to ignore him when we're coming home, going out, and while we're all together. The coming home part is going to be hard. Few things make me happier than to return home and see my puppy dog wagging his tail off at the sight of me. However, if it helps him and we can eventually get him off the medication (that's the ultimate goal), than so be it.

Oh, and that obscene vet bill? $235. Oh, Crockett.