Stitches In, Stitches Out

21 Oct

DSC_0312_2 - Version 2

Recall from my last blog how I had to make a little trip to the vet. I left the office with a tummy full of stitches. Okay, six to be exact. But hey it’s my tummy. What goes in must come out. And today was the day. I wasn’t exactly in a cooperative mood to say the least. All day long Mr. and Mrs. human tried to quiet me down, patting me on the head, blowing sweet nothings into my ear. I wasn’t having a bit of it. Every time they got me in position to attempt to remove one of my stitches, I squirmed and clawed like there was no tomorrow.

By the end of the day, Mr. and Mrs. human had enough of my victories. So they called in a ringer. The Vet. You may remember him from the Mystery Solved! Part 1 blog. I barked like crazy when he showed up. “Hey, no fair. You can’t bring in a professional. I want to call my PETA lawyer.” My barks went unheeded. Well, The Vet made nice and all. Let me sniff his hand, but I was still leery of what was coming my way. After the niceties were out of the way, we got down to brass tacks. I was put on a table, but not before The Vet managed to tie a nice little muzzle around my snout. En garde. The battle was on.IMG_3157

And boy was it ever. First, he sprayed my tummy with a numbing solution. And nicely rubbed my tummy. But, when those medical scissors came out I knew I was in for it. I should stop and mention at this point I was outnumbered, four humans to me. Neighbor Alan, and he always had been so nice to me, was whispering to me and taking photos! Okay, they were blog-worthy in the end. Mrs. human was near my back side and Mr. human had me by the leash. Then the first snip. Ow! I jumped and squirmed all over that table. I think Mr. human muttered something about a sissy. Or was it pissy? Okay, so I wet the table. Big deal. For not tipping the scales at quite 30 pounds, I was a cantankerous ball of jumping wiggling energy. At the end of round three, they only managed to get one stitch out. Ha!

This went on for a while until I heard a frustrated Mr. human tell The Vet, “Knock her out.” I quickly scanned for rubber mallets. None in sight. But The Vet drew out a not so friendly looking syringe. Man that hurt. Right into the muscle in my rear leg. I whimpered and squirmed. Mrs. human had sympathy whimpers. But before I knew it I was milquetoast personified. The next five stitches came out in 2 minutes or less. I, however, did not come out of it for another hour or so.


I did have one moral victory. The Vet said I was the only dog he ever had to sedate in order to get the stitches out. Score one for the Pepper. Mr. human said he was thankful I wasn’t a Great Dane. Mrs. human had a whiskey.

One Response to “Stitches In, Stitches Out”

  1. Eileen Schiller October 22, 2013 at 9:45 PM #

    Poor Pepper! HAHAHAHA!!!!!

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