Over the holidays, Snoots flew commercial a few times. During both of his pre-flight check-ups, the vet told me he had a couple of teeth that would need to be “taken care of” (in the Marcellus Wallace way) soon. Last week, I decided that it would be fitting (and cheaper) to have the procedure done at the Orange Veterinary Clinic. Besides, look at the place. How could you not want to take your pet there?
We set an appointment for Monday the 12th, a full-blown, all-day affair involving anesthesia-induced unconSchnootness (as it would turn out, my car would break down immediately after dropping him off that morning, meaning that for nine hours Monday, both my dog and my car were “in the shop.”)
Note the orange tube(s) rammed down his little Snooter throat! Oh yeah, also, his tooth is a fucking disgusting black cesspool.
During his stay, the vets called me twice with status updates. In the second one of these, I asked if they could save his teeth (he ended up having three removed). They laughed and said Yes, they would go right ahead and fish them out of the trash. As you can see, they were pretty gross:
His teeth were actually outnumbered by the amount of medicines we brought home (by a score of 4-3). They also found an intestinal worm, most likely from some dead animal-type thing he was gnawing on during one of his Snootabouts. His first dosage looked like this:
(Sorry for my camera’s inability to focus on close-ups). It’s pretty fun giving pills to Snoots. He resists a little bit, but for the most part, you can ram your fingers down his throat till you’re wrist-deep in his snout. And afterward, he doesn’t act like he hates you.
I also got from the Vet the copy of my bill from 2003, when I took him in for the very first time after officially adopting him. I wanted to scan it and post it here, but my scanner/printer is on the fritz. The thing that jumped out at me was his weight. He was only 46 pounds! If memory serves, he quickly shot up to 57 or 58 once he started eating regularly at the farm (he’s up to 61 as of Monday).
We drove back up Tuesday, and stopped at one of the rest areas on the NJ Turnpike. It was cold and rainy, so I pulled over to the edge of the park area and let Snoots out while I watched him from the car (and ate my Quizno’s sandwich). Naturally, it took all of about twenty seconds until Assface discovered and ate a chicken bone, testing all the delicate sutures in his little assface gums.
I’m headed down to Foxwoods Wednesday and Thursday night; a big SNOOTY SHOUT-OUT to Julia and Frank Carrano, who will be administering him his meds and feeding him wet food from a can!