Thursday, March 11, 2010
Father Goes to the Vet: The Pick-Up
Later in the day after the morning I had dropped off Father at the vet, I went back to the clinic to pickup Father. After arriving at the front desk, the receptionist sent me back to an examination room where she said someone would bring Father. I wasn’t in the exam room long until someone brought in a dark, small, short-haired dog. It was Father, and I didn’t even recognize him. He seemed so meek and pitiful looking. His long, black, majestic mane had been shaved off leaving about an inch of hair on him. Even the sheen on his hair was gone. His hair had a dull tone to it. To add insult to the situation in addition to taking away Father’s looks was a tiny, blue ribbon attached to the top of his head. It was as if all of his dignity had been taken from him. He had been stripped down naked, and I was sad to see him like this. Father weighed in at around 35 pounds, which was far short of his ideal weight of around 55 pounds. Father didn’t look good, and it turns out, it wasn’t just cosmetic. Being underweight and flea infested was the least of Father’s problems.
I was about to take Father away when the vet tech told me that the vet wanted to have a word with me. I could tell by her tone that it wasn’t going to be good. A female vet entered the room. I don’t remember her name nor what she looked like, but she was an associate and not a partner in that practice. At the time, the clinic had a bit of a turnover with the associate vets making it hard to remember who they were since they didn’t stick around long then. The one thing I do remember well is her saying that Father had heartworms. The vet explained to me what it was, what would happen to Father if he were not treated and what treatment options were available, and of course, the treatment’s cost, several hundreds.
I didn’t make an immediate decision on something of this magnitude because something like this needed to be discussed w/ Father’s co-owner, my mom. I took Father out of the room, stopped by the receptionist’s desk, paid the bill and left.
On the way home, Father got sick again.