I should not be this annoyed this early on a day off.
We are probably going to have to take another trip to the vet today. Wednesday evening, Angus came in limping. It’s important to know that Angus is a pure-bred Cairn Terrier. With that comes attitude. Toughness. Independence. Intelligence. Did I mention attitude?
Hopeful that I would find a simple thorn that could be pulled, problem solved, I tried to get a look at his paw. The yelp of death escaped Angus the moment I shined a light on his injured foot. Tired and lacking patient, I figured I would let it rest over night and try again in the morning.
Rested and braced for battle, I tried again. For a minute Angus was more cooperative. Then the biting started. I got enough of a look at the paw to see there wasn’t any superficial injury. By last night, it was clear the pain was getting worse. After being out for his evening duty, I had to carry him inside.
This morning, after I had to carry him to his breakfast bowl, I determined that either I would have to get a back bone or we’d have to go to the doctor. I tried the back bone thing first. Muzzled and annoyed, Angus accepted his fate and let me put him on his back on my lap. But he was just building up steam. I tried to trim the hair on his paw and the terror, battle and horrific noise began. I gave it everything I had and tried to remain calm.
I know I wasn’t hurting him but the noises that come out of this little beast are spine tingling. I’m going to give it one more shot – he’s going to be soaking in the tub for a bit. Then it’s off to the doctor. Why do I feel so guilty about trying to take care of him?