Wasted days and wasted nights....I love morphine! It makes me feel all gooey and soft...
Today was my tooth surgery. We got a bit of a late start, which meant Mom drove like a bat out of hell, which actually isn't all that unusual. You would think she'd be a bit more cautious, what with her precious cargo and all. Kenzie and I clung to the sides of our carrier as we ricocheted around hairpin turns, tires squealing in protest. We got to the clinic with one minute to spare. And then...
...and then the true terror began. Mom snatched me out of my carrier and plunked me down on a slippery, icy cold scale, only to make smart aleck remarks about my weight. *I* don't think five and a half pounds is excessive. It's all muscle.
Actually, it's all fur. And I weigh a lot less now, now that the tech came in and hauled me away to the back room where she SHAVED MY NECK. Then she stuck a big fat needle into it, to draw my pre-op bloodwork. As if that wasn't bad enough, then then another tech came in with another big fat needle, and stabbed me in the back!
Well, I can't honestly say I minded that one. That was the morphine. So I didn't really argue when the vet came in and started poking around my mouth with his nasty scope. He commented on what a good boy I was, and wrapped me in a warm towel, and whisked me off to the operating room. I'm a little unclear what happened after that, but eventually I found myself wrapped in another warm towel, being placed into my mom's eager and loving arms. She oohed and aahed over me and gave me back to Kenzie for safekeeping. Then I got to go home!
Oh, Granny came along, and SHE gave Kenzie and me our post-op blackberries. Blackberries make everything better. It's good to have a Granny.
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