Victory Dance

I am a very practical person. I do what needs to be done. I tend to be calm in a crisis. I bought a light blue fleece to wear home from the surgery, then took it back because I figured blood might stain it. In other words, generally I am not squeamish.

For some reason, stabbing my dog with a needle and holding it in long enough to push the "liquid gold" (name is based on the cost and how it magically keeps her alive and well) into her almost did me in. I did not have anyone to hold her down - if she decided I did a bad job and hurt her, she could just run off or turn around and bite me, causing me to hurt her more. The medication could then end up partly in her and partly not - the dosage must be to the tenth of a milligram to keep her healthy. Scary stuff for someone who went into the social sciences.

It took me five hours of attempts. When she was geeked up on the Valium, I sat on the floor and asked her to sit with me so I could do the deed. She said, OK sure, right side or left side how about this side wait let's run over here oh no you need me to sit on your lap and lick your face right side or left side hm wait let's bounce around and jump on the furniture isn't this fun?

So that wasn't working. I waited for her to be asleep and hopefully a bit drugged. I sat down next to her, asked her to sit still, grabbed her neck - she moved around to make it easier (or so I thought) then she jumped up and ran into the kitchen where I keep the treats. That happened three or four times. Maybe five. A few times I grabbed the skin and poked her with a fingernail, just to test her reaction. None at all.

I finally accepted that Molly is not an ordinary dog. She totally equates the needle with treats. When I first brought the needle in, she jumped up for it. Mine! Mine! Give me TREATS now!!

Sometimes we just have to go with the flow and accept the natural order of things. I tossed a milk bone at Baby. Baby was having a great time last night - extra treats for no reason! I went to hand one to Molly so I could get her while she was focused on the treat - and I dropped it into a corner.

My shoulders started to slump and I almost gave up at that point. Everything seemed to be going against me. Molly went for the treat and ate it.

I grabbed the skin on the back of her neck after she ate it, told her she needed to hold still. Last time it took the vet and a vet tech to hold her still for a shot. I told her she didn't need to be held down. I reminded her that she wanted the shot, she wants to feel well. I asked her to not move for just a minute.

I jabbed that needle perfectly in. I had trouble with the plunger again, but got every little drop into her and pulled the needle out. Molly turned around and looked at me, I looked at her -

and a Victory Dance erupted in the kitchen at midnight with the blinds open. My arms went up (sorry, shoulder) and I jumped up and down howling like a beagle (windows were shut). Molly gave me a look that made it clear I had been lacking in courage but finally made the grade, and Baby went looking for more treats. Molly started jumping for joy with me.

It was a real Kodak moment.

I will not be afraid next time, other than the fact that I will have my right arm in a sling and I am right handed. My arm will be as weak as a noodle. We will deal with that when the time comes, right? I have a used needle - I can practice left handed on fruit. Fruit loves to be stabbed.

Within five minutes both dogs were sound asleep and Molly resumed her snoring.

It was a non-event for the dogs. I grabbed for the raspberry stoli and cranberry juice. I had to celebrate learning a new skill.

Molly never even flinched. I have decided that she fights being held down at the vet because it offends her sense of dignity.