White Dog stopped dead in her tracks when she heard the word "vet." Suddenly her fixation on going with for a ride, and the interest of the rest of the White Dog Army evaporated. The WDA sent her off with, "Good Luck, Little Sister," and then sadly watched from the windows as we backed down the driveway. Vet visits are usually not good events in our house.
Their reaction totally robbed our Darkest White Dog of her enthusiasm for the ride. As she watched the house grow smaller she began to cry and hung her head over to the front seats. "Sweetheart, it is all right. It is just a checkup. Nothing to worry about."
Zso mustered her bravado as we sat in the waiting room. She had a lot to say to everyone there and wooed her thoughts freely. Our Itty Bitty Baby did very well meeting other pups waiting, including a rescue lab Cindy had sitting at the desk in socialization training. BUT our playful girl did not quite understand that social protocol is not a nice polite greeting and then an immediate wrestling match. Despite that our girl impressed everyone (including us) by recalling instantly to sit at the side of my chair. As a reward Steve took her over to the scale which after a thorough inspection the Baby stepped on...40.8#.
The exam room made her nervous and when Rosie took her to the back to do her heart worm test, Zsofia became a masterful passive resister in her refusal to stand and walk with the tech. Her pitiful stare at Steve and heart ripping cries were excellent drama that stopped the minute Rosie opened the training treat bag and poured a handful out. "One now, Come on..." And our girl was gone without a backward glance.
Rosie returned Zso and promised Dr. Julia would be in shortly. In the meantime, Zso discovered the treat jar on the desk and hinted broadly that she would like a few of whatever it contained. When Steve told her no she lay in front of the exit door and pouted.
Dr. Julia put Zsofia up on the exam table and pushed the pedal for it to rise. Zso was not sure if the movement as good or not but leaned into Rosie while the Doctor poked and prodded and completed a physical exam. "You are a healthy, beautiful girl," she told Zso. To us, "Shall we do a baseline adult blood panel on her? She won't need one every year but I'd like to have one. Not that I sense any issues."
Steve and I firmly believe in having a thorough history so agreed. Before taking her back once again, Rosie held our Girl while Dr. Julia administered her normal shots. Admiringly our vet said, "I am having trouble finding fat on Zsofia, she is so lean. Huskies tend to go the other way." I wish she had waited until Rosie had taken Zso back for the blood draw before she continued (and my Itty Bitty One heard it) "you could give her a a few more treats if you want, she is not underweight but she is young and has a high metabolism. Just in all her talking I bet she uses lots of calories." We could hear her all the way back in the Lab. Steve and Dr. Julia ended up agreeing that he would make her breakfast and dinner kibbles rounded cups instead of level like the others rather than feeding her more treats which would make the others jealous. And then our baby was back. "I will give you a call on Thursday about the blood but really, there should not be any news," Dr. Julia told us. "It seems strange to tell one of your dogs this but I do not need to see her until her next annual."
I looked at her and then our beloved vet. "Good girl, Zso! Dr. Julia says you can have a treat. Let's stop at Sonic and get you a hamburger." She looked at the vet. "A hamburger, NO cheese," she was told.
When we pulled up at home we were greeted by the song of our pack before we even got out of the car. As Steve unclipped Zsofia's lead from the van, he told her, "Please do NOT tell your brothers and sisters that you got a special treat. Let that be our secret"