|Dog days of summer
||[Aug. 8th, 2011|10:14 pm]
That whole blogging every day thing? So not happening. You probably figured that out your own self.
I spent the weekend up north visiting my brother and his family. It's been a long time since I've driven that far. I've gotten very spoiled because Husband always does the driving when we go on vacation. He grumbles about it a bit but never seems to find a good opportunity to switch drivers between here and there.
I made it home in time to take Molly for a checkup. She did not like it. She hates riding in the car, which means she won't get in the car, which means I have to pick her up and put her in the car, and she weighs 68 fatdog pounds. I think someone has been sneaking her treats when I'm not looking.
According to the car thermometer, it was 106 degrees. When we got to the clinic, there was a pug in the waiting room, so we couldn't go inside. Because to Molly, any animal smaller than she is falls into the category of "varmint" and therefore deserves to be eaten. There was a little stone bench outside so we sat down to wait for the pug to leave, but it didn't. And you know what? 106 degrees is really hot when you're sitting on a little stone bench in the sun. We waited about 15 minutes until someone came outside to tell us we could come in, and I told them we couldn't because Molly was dog agressive. So they hid the pug behind the counter and let us go straight into the exam room.
Fortunately, there weren't any dogs in the waiting room when we left. There was a cat in a large cage, and I'm not sure who was unhappier about it, the cat or Molly. Once it was clear she wasn't going to be allowed to eat the cat, she just became interested in going back home. I appreciated that because it meant she actually wanted to get back in the car.
I would have given her a treat for being so good, but...well...68 fatdog pounds.