The new car will hopefully not smell like sick dog…

I love the new car smell.  Phoenix has yet to disappoint.  However, today, she is getting put to the test.  Or rather, the new car smell is.

Saturday night, the Hazel was doing much licking to herself.  Since she’s always got a bit of an allergy to something (not to mention the fact that SOMEONE gave her a piece of steak the other night, and beef is one of the major things that I think she’s allergic to), I haven’t been paying attention to how long she’s been doing this for.  But, the other night, it was so bad, she left giant slobber puddles on the furniture in the basement just licking her leg.

Makes you want to come over and visit, doesn’t it?  (As a side note, our living room furniture is washable, so you won’t get slobber covered should you decide to drop in on me).  (Well, right now you will, since I haven’t had time to wash the furniture).  (It’s okay though, we’ll sit upstairs and have coffee).  (Or tea, or hot chocolate, if you prefer).

So, on Saturday, I finally look at what she’s licking.  And discover that her pads on her back foot are pink and infected, and she’s starting to lick the fur off the top of her foot.

Yes, I’m a good dog mom.  Two days later…sigh.

Of course, I notice this on Saturday night.  Meaning that the vet is closed for everything but dire emergencies on Sunday.  Which in my mind, is dire (THE DOG CAN’T WALK WITHOUT A LIMP, SHE’S GOING TO HAVE TO HAVE HER FOOT AMPUTATED, OMG, OMG), however, I don’t think the vet would agree with me.

So, Sunday, the Hazel and I chilled on the couch, and she kept my feet warm all day.  We knitted, we watched bad television, we ate, all on the couch.  I know, I used my day off wisely.  But, it kept the dog off her sore foot.  And so yes, I wasn’t lazy, it was all for my dog.  And that’s what I’m going to keep telling myself.

This morning, Bman goes to take her out for her morning routine, and she can barely get up.  Her foot has now swollen to twice it’s size, and she’s not even standing on it anymore.

When I got up, I phoned the vet first thing, and managed to get her in for this afternoon.  But the girl on the phone was so bitchy, when she told me the time, I asked her if it was possible to get anything sooner, and she snapped on me, “no, that’s the only time.”  Okay fine, just asking (because in my head it’s still OMG, OMG, SHE’S NEVER GOING TO BE ABLE TO WALK NORMALLY AGAIN, and I thought that maybe there was more emergency appointments in the morning.  Not to mention, a friend of mine phoned, and we were going to fit in some shopping (read: Tim Hortons and Walmart) after I took her in, but afternoon meant that my friend and I couldn’t go together since her kids would be getting out of school at that time.  But alas, no earlier appointments, as the bitchy girl snapped at me.  But I wondered, while she was snapping at me, did she realize who she was talking to?  I am the one with the dog allergic to everything, and over the years we’ve had to haul her butt to the vet for things wrong with her, did she realize that with all the money we’ve sunk into this dog, I’ve probably paid for her Christmas bonus, and her vacation pay, and probably her children’s braces for the rest of her life?

On the plus side, this means that when I say my name, there isn’t an alarm that goes off on the computer that says we’re willing to pay a lot of money for this dog to be alive and healthy, so let’s get these people to pay for the new x-ray machine.