EXCEPT that Doc has heart worms. Hey, at least I didn’t do the emotional build up which could have led you to much more heinous suppositions; I make an effort to fight that genetic inclination (love you Yaya). It was such an awful day when I found out. I’m not the type to wallow around in a bad day, I get pissed off and fight the bad day with a sassy attitude. I say things out loud, to nobody in particular, like “Oh yeah?!? Screw you wind that blew an oily old hamburger wrapper in my face!! You’re a piece of crap puff of air!” I inevitably call my counselor/hair dresser on these days and schedule another bleaching, I don’t know why but it makes me feel better. I love you Sandra.
I was at the vet with Doc and Hoss and John when I found out. Have you ever seen Monty Python’s “Ministry for Silly Walks”? Google that shit. I could have been inducted by the masterful way I managed two large beasts on leashes side-winding between my legs AND a stroller AND a purse AND a diaper bag. Little Blue is an extremely happy lad with not a care in the world, except for this particular afternoon; he started screaming uncontrollably in the exam room. I went through my mental ‘Screaming Baby Triage”: I’ve fed him, he’s not wet or loaded, he didn’t fall or bump his bobble head, he just woke up from a nap so long he won’t go to bed until 9pm, I’m not withholding the remote control (with which he is obsessed)….WTH Johnny? Then something happened to me that’s never happened before; a stranger looked at me with a sympathetic (albeit very judgmental, in my opinion) face and took John out of my arms saying “Here, let me give you a break and I’ll walk him around outside.” I. Was. Stunned.
Open mouthed, no words kind of stunned.
I’m an emotional dry-socket (I may have mentioned that before) so my immediate thought was “Hey lady! I’m a good mom damn it and I can handle when my kid gets upset on my own plus you’re voice is weird and I hate your shoes!!” Had I not just exhaled all my air supply in relief I probably would have said that. It just so happens that the vet came back in at that exact moment; safe for now lady. Safe for now.
“Bad news, I’m afraid. Doc has heart worms.” Damn. There wasn’t any way she could have made it sound better? Perhaps, “I know you take great care of Doc and that he’s on every medication from Frontline to prophylactic Glucosamine (Border Collies get hip displasia later in life, it’s just genetic for their breed) but somehow, through no known medical reason, he was attacked by a vicious mosquito and infected with heart worms….which is, by no means, your fault.” That might have been a little easier to swallow. Doc looked up at me with his big puppy eyes as though he were the star of that ASPCA commercial and I started hearing Sarah McLachlan singing ‘In the arms of the angel’….and baby screams.
Worse still, the treatment isn’t available. No, seriously. It’s apparently in such short supply that there isn’t any available on the market; even if it was available it has a 10% mortality rate and it costs a truck load… I thought surely a tiny ninja was going to jump out of the ceiling panels and punch me in the gut, that was the only thing missing from this moment. At least I still had Hoss, the Chuck Norris of dogs, the picture of health and athleticism with his broad, lion-like chest and stern features…and his uncanny ability to pee on an object from across the room maintaining eye contact with you. Epic Mom Fail.
I grabbed my muts, stole back my screaming child and apologized to the tech in the urine soaked lab coat as I scampered out of the clinic…
…and went to Whataburger. Hey, if you’re going to have a meltdown do it in the company of a double with cheese. Red did some extensive research and put Doc on a holistic schedule of Parsley water, wormwood, black walnut and cloves. He’s on an antibiotic as well. He doesn’t have any physical symptoms and seems happy as ever so I’m hoping this will work until the treatment becomes available. Leave it to Doc to not know he’s ill, lol.
As soon as we got home John was back to happy, toddling about in a glow of curiosity and zeal. The boys were outside playing with a bath toy they stole from John the last time they slept inside (because of the storms, lighting is scary dude). Normal. Why is it that they couldn’t be normal when we were out amidst the judging eyes of other mothers and professionals?!? It’s a freaking conspiracy!!!