My dog, the butterface.

15 Nov

I do not know how to tactfully segue into todays topic, some I’m just going to get down to business:

 

 

You all know of Lemon by this point, right?  Right.  She oozes awesomeness and is quite possibly the most cuddly dog that has ever curled up in your lap.  I freakin’ love this dog.  Thus, it came as a surprise when I walked in the front door Sunday morning to find her head the size of a small c antelope.  (By the way, way do people measure swelling in fruit?  “It was the size of a watermelon…[gasp!])

Thankfully she was able to breathe despite the fact that she now looked like a basset hound instead of a dachshund.  Grocery shopping was pushed aside for a quick trip to the emergency animal clinic.  Animal emergency clinic?  The clinic for animals with an emergency?  You take your pick.  Needless to say, it was a long ride to the vet.  Lemon paced about the front seat and shot pitiful looks at other drivers when we happened to be stopped by a red light.   “Oh, honey…look, a puppy!  [squinting]  Agh!  What happened to it?!”  [green light]  Yeah, sorry folks.

We actually made it to the vet’s office in good time, it just seems like forever when your dog might stop breathing at any second.  Oh goody.  Anyhoo…we made it.  The attendant at the front desk started to ask what the problem was, but stopped halfway through her question when she looked up at our dog.  “Uh….never mind.  Come right this way.”

She weighed her, listened to her heart beat and probed her with the obligatory, jelly coated utensils before leaving to fetch the Vet.  After a few minutes the Vet on call came in and once again started to ask about our dog’s problem.  However, this time she stopped half-way through her question so she could laugh in pity at our dog’s face.

 

 

….and what a sad face it was.  I was almost in tears and the Vet was cackling over the admittedly hilarious appearance of Lemon’s face.  I was about to work-up some righteous indignation, but decided not to.  The Vet didn’t act like she was in imminent danger, so I cooled my jets.  It turned out to be a simple allergic reaction to a bug bit/sting.  That’s what happens when you stick your nose in places it doesn’t belong.  (Like in the ivy growing on the backyard fence.)

Lemon was given some shots, I was given a bill and we all went home relatively happy.  Lemon enjoyed the bliss of a drug induced sleep for the rest of the day and I enjoyed holding her in my lap.  She is fantastically warm and down-right fun to look at…even when her face is, *ahem* disfigured.

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