BarkingProse

If you have been following The DailyBark, you know that I have had some female problems. I have been taking antibiotics for the past few days. I am not chewing myself as vigorously and am starting to feel better.

This morning I asked Ash to check me out. Being the good soul that he is, Ash carefully smelled my whatsy and reported that it was indeed less odiferous.

Mom thinks only the vet could diagnose my condition. How idiotic! Any of the dogs at Asherpark could have told her there was a problem. We didn’t have to pay money for me to be violated by the vet just to learn I had a minor infection. People!

Mom insists that I take an herbal calming pill twice a day. It was either the herbal concoction or Prozac. Haha! Imagine me, the Princess of Asherpark, on Prozac.

I hate to admit it, but I do feel a little more relaxed with the new meds. Mom says I have a canine version of obsessive-compulsive disorder. That is probably true, though I do think my obsession with the little mongrel, Shiloh, is warranted.

I will finish with the antibiotics after ten days. Did I mention that Jack is taking antibiotics too? How people fuss over that big bag of bones. Between his bad teeth and his drippy eyes, I don’t see much to recommend him.

When I pester him first thing in the morning just to annoy him, he always responds with a churlish snarl. As if he could even put up a fight if I decided to launch on him. Lucky for Jack it’s not worth my time to fight him.

Well, that’s enough about me for today. I’ve got to get ready for my ride in the car. I go everywhere with my dad. As soon as I leave Mama whispers to Shiloh, “The witch is gone.”

I could care less that they don’t like me. Believe me, the feeling is mutual. Ta ta!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I feel violated and I am not one bit happy! Perhaps everything was done with good intentions, but I did not appreciate the poking and prodding of my personal areas.

For several years I have had intermittent bouts of chewing and scratching in areas best left unmentioned.

At first it was thought that my anal sacs were impacted, so I had to endure the proverbial finger up my butt to squeeze out the nasty material. While this did provide some relief, it was not sufficient to eradicate the symptoms.

I was treated for fleas, but there was never any indication that I or others at Asherpark play host to the hideous little insects.

I was bathed with special products designed to reduce itching. Topical sprays were applied, including some with cortisone. Ointments were rubbed in places where only my tongue should go. I would get better and then revert to chewing and licking.

Recently the symptoms increased to the point where I was obsessed with chewing myself. I attacked my personal areas with such frenzy that the people ordered me to stop. I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. The itching was driving me insane.

While I was chewing myself incessantly, Jack was wandering around panting and looking miserable. He has bad teeth which allow his tongue to protrude making him look senile and idiotic.

Because of his age the vet is reluctant to subject Jack to surgery, so Jack periodically takes antibiotics to keep the infection in his mouth under control.

Everything came to a head a few days ago when mom scheduled a vet appointment for me and Jack. When we arrived at the clinic, mom told the vet there had to be something wrong with me because I was obsessed with chewing my female parts.

I could hardly believe my ears when mom asked Dr. Brad to examine my whatsy. I was so embarrassed, I wanted to disappear.

Mom tried to distract me while Dr. Brad poked and prodded and squeezed. After what seemed like forever, Dr. Brad stood up and declared that I likely have a mild infection. I’m to take antibiotics in hopes that my chewing myself will stop. I am also to take some anti anxiety/calming pills to reduce my obsessive behavior.

I couldn’t get out of the clinic fast enough. I have never been so humiliated in my life. Imagine how you would feel with someone examining your most private areas while others looked on. The indignity of it all!!

I leapt into the car before the door was fully open, nearly knocking myself unconscious. At least the worst was over. I could retreat to Asherpark, where Ash would lick my face and ask me why I was so upset.

I will take the silly calming pills and the daily antibiotics. I will try not to think about my whatsy and how stupid I felt being examined on the floor of the vet clinic. I will hold a good thought in hopes that I begin to feel better. I will report more later. For now I must have a good sulk. I am not happy – not at all.