Doggy Dental Day

My mom calls me a helicopter parent. This is possibly because I barely even trust her to watch my dogs. I mean, there was that one time I was out of town on business and my two Rottweilers were found running down the middle of a busy road and had to be loaded into her clown car Mini Cooper tired and thirsty…but I digress.

Vet visits are always challenging for me because I have to Clark W. Griswold every single aspect of my life (and theirs, obviously).

The biggest problem is as dumb as my dogs are, they know when the morning routine is off. Good luck getting them to do their potties when I ask because the fact that I’m asking means we’re going someplace. Going someplace means they can’t think! They can’t drink! The cannot potty! They WILL NOT potty! And this time, by “they” I mean the psychotic hound who is normally my good potty girl.

Doggy Dental Day is an annual event that just really stresses me out. This is the first year that both of them are having their teeth cleaned (Sherman is still young) so I have to plan how to get them both loaded in the Jeep to come home while loopy from anesthesia. Also, I don’t trust the people in charge of their care so I worry about them all day. Helicopter parent.

I took the day off because their vet is 20 miles away, I had to drop them off at 0700, and I can’t do the working when I’m doing the worrying. I intended to come home and do stuff but now that I’m home with no one to attack the vacuum, I don’t know what to do with myself. Looks like I’ll be sitting here on the couch waiting for the call letting me know when they’ll be ready to come home. Helicopter parent.

How do people not have pets? There is no snoring, chewing, panting, or barking. It’s so quiet I can’t think. Instead, I’m just sitting here wondering if they’re okay. Did the vet tech take Lulu out to poop? Is their blood work normal? Do they miss me? Should I have asked for dental x-rays? That’s a thing, you know. Am I a bad person because I said to skip them? Sherman is having some tests done on one of his eyes. Am I a bad person because I waited to have it checked? What if it’s eye cancer? Then it’s all my fault if he dies. What if it’s a parasite and it spreads to Lulu and they both die? Helicopter parent.

This is a good time to rearrange my shoes or something. I’m sure they’re fine. But maybe I’ll just make a quick call to check on them first.

Note: To be fair, it wasn’t even my mom’s fault the Rommels escaped. That was a Kansas wind issue so she’s totally innocent. It’s just fun to give her grief.