Poor baby …

Sitting with Luke now after a very long and hard day for him at the vet.

I don't feel so good, Mommy.

I don’t feel so good, Mommy.

First the indignity of having to be dragged from his hiding spot and shoved into a carrier, then ogled by people in the waiting room who just didn’t seem to understand how terrified he was because they were so awed by his massive size. (Yep, still 18 pounds, so he hasn’t gained any more weight, thank God.) Then he gets poked and prodded, sedated, poked and prodded some more, then put in a kennel surrounded by a bunch of other terrified critters so that when he finally woke up he was so scared even Mom couldn’t calm him down.

Go away. I'm being pitiful here.

Go away. I’m being pitiful here.

The boy has been moving very slowly, and it was several hours before the wooziness had subsided enough for him to actually jump up on the bed. Now he’s curled up on the end, finally sleeping peacefully (and now I don’t feel the need to check every few minutes that he’s still breathing … whew!).

Hopefully by morning he’ll be feeling a lot better so he can be goofy for Grandma … and show off his newly cleaned teeth and freshly clipped nails.

Getting him back in the carrier, though … I may need to be sedated.

If this cut on my leg scars me permanently, your ass is grass.

If this cut on my leg scars me permanently, your ass is grass.


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