While I was Sleeping

(today’s post is guest-authored by none other than Miss Turkey)*

Dude. Let me just tell you. This has been a heck of a day. I went to bed early last night (shoulda’ been my first clue). My mama didn’t even remember to watch Real Housewives, and it was part 2 of the reunion special! I remembered it was on, but I didn’t say anything. I don’t really see what she sees in that smut, anyway. They all drink too much and are mean to one another! I prefer “Ellen,” which is in the afternoons. Anyway. I am getting off the subject.

We got up super early this morning, and I was confused about going on a walk in the dark, but then hey! A ride in Grandpa’s Jeep! I love riding in the Jeep. When I was here in the summer the Jeep was the “camp bus.” I am not sure why it was called that but everyone thought it was funny.

So, we rode into town, my Grandpa, my mama, and me. Then we went to this place we went a few weeks ago. They have CATS, right there on the floor in a cage! You can adopt the cats, like how I got adopted, and go home with a forever family. I stuck my nose in, but the one who played with me before had been adopted.

This nice lady Stephanie, who I met before, tried to take me away, but I dug in my heels because I didn’t want to go. I suddenly realized I had been seriously, seriously duped. Mama and Grandpa took off, saying something like “maybe if she can’t see us, she’ll go back.” Do they think I don’t have ears? Seriously. They’re always getting cleaned. That means I can HEAR WELL.

Stephanie and Dr. John had been feeling all around my legs, looking for the lumps. I wasn’t about to tell them that the lumps were not on my leg, but ON MY BACK. But then I heard Stephanie call my mom to ask, and next thing I knew my mom was back in the office, joking about drawing on me with a Sharpie. I don’t know why they thought that was so funny. Sharpies are permanent. I am blonde. That is not funny. I cried and wiggled a whole lot, but they still made me stay, and off my mom and Grandpa went again. I just know they were going to that Mr. J’s bagels to have breakfast, too. Darn them! I love bagels! Sometimes there is bacon, too. I like bacon almost as much as I like pepperoni.

I don’t remember too much of what happened next. The took some blood to make sure I was all healthy, and then they stuck me with an IV and I felt verrrrry sleeeepy. I put my head down and off to sleep I went.

When I woke up I felt like a mess! I felt like I had a hole cut in my right side. Then I looked down, and do you know what? There was a big hole cut into my right side! What up, people? This is not what I signed up for. I thought I was just going for a ride in the Jeep!

Here's my wound. The people took a photo when we got home.

As I was looking down at the hole, I noticed that I was having a really hard time seeing out of my right eye. Fortunately I am really handy with my paws (heh) so I started batting at my eyeball trying to scratch it. I can do that with no problem. The itch was scratched, but I still had a hard time seeing.

I did notice that my breath smelled a lot less funky, and so I wondered whether they had cleaned my teeth. That’s something.

I kept falling over, but I am a warrior so I kept standing right back up. After a bit, Stephanie came to take me out of the kennel, and put on my collar…and as we started walking out front, I could hear my mom! I yelped and gobbled for joy.

As soon as I got out there, I rolled right over. Apparently I wasn’t supposed to do this, as everyone started trying to get me to sit up (Why do the rules keep changing? Why?!). Apparently there was “blood on the floor” and I guess it came from me. As if that was a bad thing. I’m not the one who made me get all bloody, ok? I mean it’s one thing if I got into a fight.  All I did was go for a walk, take a ride in the Jeep, and the rest was out of my hands. Paws.

I guess my roll and my teeth loosened the stitches, cause we had to wait a bit for Dr. Vicky to come in and take a look at them. Dr. John had wisely peaced out and gone home.

While we waited, my stupid mom noticed that my stupid nails hadn’t been cut while I was “asleep.” Argh. I’d been hoping she wouldn’t notice. She came back into the back with me and the two Stephanies (the blonde one is Dr. John’s daughter and my mom has known her since she was a baby. My mom WOULD NOT SHUT UP about how she used to work here. Yeah, yeah, mom, we get it. You worked here like 20 years ago. Let it go.). They attacked me with the stupid clippers and cut my stupid nails. I whined a whole lot to punish all three of them.

I was sure happy to see Grandpa. My mom settled up the bill (something about “depleting the Turkey Emergency Fund/ there goes my trip to London”)(but you know what, before she said that I heard her bragging that she “bought tickets to see Madonna in September” so I am not feeling all that bad for her) and Grandpa took me to pee.

Back into the Vehicle of Deception (formerly known as the Jeep) we went. I thought we’d head right home but OH NO. Apparently there had not been enough humiliation for one day.

We stopped at “PetSmart,” where usually I am allowed inside. They give me treats! Mom crutched on in; I thought surely she was getting me a surprise for being so good. She came out with a bag. Guess maybe the treat is for home? I put my head in her lap and snoozed for the 30 minute drive back to Nana and Grandpa’s.

We got there and I thought this charade would finally be over. Oh, nooooo. They corralled me into a downstairs room, and in came Nana with a pair of scissors. Ok, I heard my mom talking about how Nana stabbed her with a pair of scissors the other night, so it would be an understatement to say that I was not too stoked about this development.

I went to my natural defense, and laid down. Mom whipped out this big roll of purple tape, and tried to wrap it around me, like I was a Christmas tree or something. What’s up with that. I cried a few times to let them know I was displeased with this action. They kept going. Mom kept taking pictures. Why? Why is my sorrow to be photographed? You didn’t see me all out with the camera when she started lumbering around on those silly crutches, now did you? This is just plain rude. I am a lady of the South (what up, Rocky Mount!). I am dignified and have manners. Clearly she is not, and has none.

Then they sat me up, and said “now the bad stuff begins.” WHAT the WHAT?! How is everything until this moment not bad????

Mom started wrapping this hideous blue plastic thing around my head. She has another thing coming to her if she thinks that’s gonna last. Well, she must’ve gone to some fancy overpriced school or something, cause she snapped that sucker on, and I could barely see. I gave her the serious stink eye.

Nana brought me upstairs on my leash (in their hurry to put the hideous plastic thing on my head, they forgot to remove my harness, so now I am stuck in it!). I stumbled around the kitchen for a bit, and was hand-fed some food, including my favorite super-stinky salmon treats (who’s got servants NOW?!). I know I should be grateful for food, since it had been nearly 24 hours since my last meal. Even so, I’ll admit I kind of bit her hand a little each time she offered me some. And I do not feel the least bit bad about it.

I started to fall asleep standing up (again, somehow this is “cute” and required more photos to memorialize my humiliation) and so I was guided/bribed with green beans into the family room, where my bed is located during the day.

I couldn’t quite make it onto my bed.

why won't she stop FOLLOWING ME?

I am not sure how I will feel later, but I’ve heard whispers that I will wear the hideous plastic thing for the next TEN DAYS until my stitches are removed. I know my mom got some killer pain meds for HER surgery. Apparently – even though I had TWO incisions, thank you very much – dogs don’t rate quite as highly. I will suffer and let them know I am suffering. I hope they feel good and guilty for inflicting so much pain on me, even if it is “because they love me.” Whatevs.

Thanks for all the kind well-wishes. In between humiliating, photographing and maiming me today, my mom did tell me how many people wished me well on that Book of Face and in email. That was really nice. Thanks, people! I know you’re good. Now I just wish you’d rescue me from my pain-inflicting mom.

I guess she loves me, too.

*If there existed any great mystery as to why my mom remains single, I believe there is no more