Thank you.
I dropped him off before going in to work and as they were taking him back they checked his teeth. They said that his baby teeth didn’t fall out on their own, and when that happens the normal teeth grown in behind the baby teeth and the normal ones rot out. Which I can only imagine is less than fun. So they said they had to pull all his baby teeth too.
No balls, and now this? Poor slugger, he was really in for a rough day.
I went to pick him up and there was another puppy there that had gotten fixed and he was running around excited and loving his new life as a neutered puppy. I took that as a good sign, maybe Brighton won’t be in much pain. I brought in a carrier to take him home in, and she took the carrier into the back to load him up. I peeked into the carrier, excited to see my boy, and he was shaking, had thrown up on himself, shedding tears for the sires he’ll never have, was wet where they tried to clean him up, and was drooling blood, and subsequently his once white mustache was red.
I took him home and subjected him to The Cone. This wasn’t a cone I have seen before and it took me forever to figure out how to put it together. Forcing poor groggy Boy to sit there as I kept putting it on and taking off and putting it on again until I got it right.
We then watched the Olympics together, and I administered some serious TLC while he sat in my lap for two hours without moving a muscle, and me not moving mine so as not to jostle him. That’s how I knew he was miserable, he usually can’t sit in one place for very long before he has to get up and move to another spot, even if it’s a foot away.
I think he may have given up the will to live at this point.
Don't worry, this story has a happy ending. A couple hours later he finally got around to moving a little and by that evening he was in full spirits, although none too happy about having the cone on.
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