|Hopper and Cooper, our Schnoodle Boyz|
Before I made the appointment, I gave poor little dirty behind Cooper a bath. I could tell how poorly he still felt because he just sat in the tub all laid back. Then again, it might have felt soothing to get all that crusty gunk off his behind. Cooper is our dog with the greatest Napoleon Complex - he is so horrified by his small stature and does anything he can to show how gigantic he really is. But this morning after I gave him a bath, my little tough and tumble guy let me just hold him in my arms for quite a while wrapped in a towel. It was really very sweet.
When we got to the vet, Cooper was happy as can be and then as soon as we started to walk into the vet's office ... SCREEECHING HALT. Cooper hates the vet and he's unbelievably dramatic when a vet does anything to him. I was able to get him inside with me and sat quietly at my feet for quite a while because the vet was so backed up. I finished "New Moon" and he acted like a perfect gentleman.
I had brought a stool sample in, but it wasn't big enough to get any lab work done on it. So ... they took Cooper to the back to get some themselves. I think Cooper could be heard all the way in West County ! As I said, he can be dramatic and quite frankly I'm not going to chastise him for being dramatic about getting a stool sample. Then, right after they brought him back to the room to me - he had diarrhea all over the floor. I think he intentionally did that ... if they wanted a stool sample, they'd get it - but he'd do it his way. :)
Cooper was given antibiotics and is acting 75% better this evening. I think it was a combination of the bath, the antibiotics and how he's willing himself to feel better to avoid the vet.
On a personal note, my Dad died 13 years ago today. I still miss him and every day, wish he were still here. My Dad was the only person in the world that I believed when he said everything would be all right even if a hurricane and earthquake were raging at the same time. He was definitely an optimist and a fighter. Even though his leg was amputated 4 months before he died, he worked as hard as he possibly could to be able to drive a truck through the city streets of St. Louis again. Joey was named after him ... Joseph. I like to think I've got a little bit of my Dad in Joey as he was born 10 months after my Dad died. They would have been a great pair had they been able to meet on earth instead of hanging out in the cosmos for a few months. :)