Her name was Mandy and she was a toy apricot poodle.  Poodles are mother's absolute favorite; and by favorite I mean Bea and myself excepted.
Mandy's dad brought her in because he said "I was sitting on the couch petting her, and her heart felt funny to me; like it was racing.  I just need to make sure that nothing's wrong."  The comment  garnered an unwitnessed eye roll from Vocal Vonnie; that was until she started to look at the panicked poodle herself.
"Well, I admit that I thought this man was crazy when he called, but that's the weirdest feeling heartbeat I've ever felt" Vonnie admitted.  "The dog acts like nothing's wrong, though" she added.
Mother spent some time examining the fluffy apricot girl.  As she took the tubes out of her ears she said "Well, you're right.  Her heart is definitely not normal.  She has a very loud heart murmur and the sensation you can feel over her ribs is what we call a 'thrill'.  A thrill means that the blood flowing through her heart is flowing so turbulently that it's making everything vibrate.  It's a pretty uncommon sign and, by itself, it doesn't tell us what's wrong.  We'll need to run some tests to know more." mother advised.

Mandy had to stay for some black and white pictures, and then for the goo covered probe treatment by my dad.  All the while Mandy had no idea why she was even at the hospital.  "I'm fine.  Where is my dad?" she panted.  My parents were busy for the next few hours working on the bright screen machine.  By the afternoon they had their answers and were talking to Mandy's dad:  "We took x-rays and ultrasound images of her heart and sent them to a cardiologist.  The good news is that her heart murmur is not causing her heart any trouble right now.  The bad news is that the murmur is from a bad valve in her heart and the reason the vibration showed up all of a sudden is likely because a cord holding the valve in place, ruptured.  So far her heart is not having a problem, but we except her to start having trouble soon.  The first signs will be coughing, lack of energy or not wanting to eat.  At that point we'll want to see her back and start heart medication" my parents advised.

"I told you that I was fine!" Mandy panting, eagerly wagging her tail while facing the door.  "Time to go, Dad".  As soon as she got the signal, Mandy pranced out the door.  I could hear her heart sloshing all the way into the parking lot.  Mother said Mandy gave new meaning to the term "heart felt good-bye".

Something I have noticed recently......we are seeing an awful lot of puppies these days.  And by we, I mean my parents and their helpers.  Bea and I don't as much see the puppies as bark hello in their general direction and try to get a good sniff.  Sometimes I notice Bea reverting back to her momma days and she goes for the smelly end to try to clean things up, but mother always makes her stop.

I don't know where all the puppies are coming from.  All the humans here at the clinic make such a fuss when the new puppies show up.  They come in all shapes and sizes too;  some fuzzy, some bald, some with fluffy tails, others with no tails.  Mother says puppies are the cutest things in the world.  And by the world, she means every where except where I am, of course.

Mother saw one puppy the other day that came in for being 'bloated'. His mother thought he'd eaten a rubber tire, but it turned out that the worms were eating him instead.  "We'll give him some medicine and the worms will come out and his belly will shrink in no time", mother advised.  Funny, I thought worms made you look skinny, not fat, but I guess that why she's the doctor.

I just know that mother is going to add all the adorable puppy pictures to this blog.  So I made sure to put my puppy picture in the group so we'll just let the readers decide who wins the cutest puppy award.  I mean, they don't call it Her"RON" creek animal hospital for nothing!

Today was not a typical Monday.  It started the same way they usually do, except Sambuca stayed over.... again.  We all rode to the clinic together without incident.  It wasn't long after arriving at the villas, that Sambuca's parents came to get him.  He was so happy to see them, but I could tell that he was torn about leaving me.  He'd developed quite an attachment to me over the weeks, and I knew it would hurt him to be without me.  Sambuca fought through his grief and put on a brave little smile and waddled out the door with his parents all the same; tough little guy.

The strangest thing about today was that my mother was having something called a birthday.  What I've learned about this strange human ritual is that not all humans celebrate this 'day' the same way.  It seems that most of mother's helpers enjoy song and cake on their days, but mothers' was a much more somber event.  In fact, it seemed like most of the helpers took to whispering about the birthday, and started to smell of fear if mother got wind of the discussion.  There was still cake though, and since Anna was visiting today on account of the fact that she was on a 'spring break', there were lots of delicious crumbs for me and Bea to enjoy. 
Well, some people are scared of my mother, but not me, so here goes "Happy Birthday, Mom".  You don't look a day over 5 (in dog years, that is).

It was father's Friday at the clinic.  That means mother, Bea and I got to sleep in.  Our girl, Anna, was home as well on account of the fact that her ear hurt and her nose had stopped working.

When we did finally make the trek to the clinic, I was not happy to discover that Sambuca had taken over my role as official greeter.  He throws his head back just like I do, but he doesn't have the high pitched alarm quality that my voice provides.  He practically demands attention, and simply cannot stand for Bea and I to get any sort of affection without getting involved.  He's mostly cute and harmless, and I do feel bad for the fact that he can't even walk in a straight line, so I mostly let it go.  Today, however, he over stepped his bounds.  Not only did he visit our apartment uninvited, but he helped himself to my clear liquid refreshment.
I realize that most dogs do not see sharing a water bowl as any particular infraction.  But my mother keeps a tight watch on the water bowl that Bea and I share, on account of the fact that sometimes I have a hard time holding my marking liquid.  I admit that I have a tendency to get carried away when I drink and the next thing I know it's coming out the other end.  So mother rations our drinks accordingly.

I decided to take the high road and not teach the disabled boy a lesson.  I said to Bea, "He's just a guest right, and it's not forever".  Of course, Bea kept her mouth shut.  I was glad that it was Friday and was looking forward to a quiet weekend at the den when who showed up in our car, but Sambuca.  Again.  Well one more weekend won't kill me I guess, " But no more piggyback games", I barked at him, "I do have a great game called Tug-of-war-facial-hair that you just might like!"

Wednesday ended a crazily as it began. In fact, some of the cases from Wednesday turned into cases on Thursday. The last visitor of the day on Wednesday was a Sheltie named Pookie. He was about 10 years old and his parents said “something's just not right with him. We were taking a trip to the Keys and when we got to Marathon and he didn't want to walk or wag his tail anymore, we turned right around. His gums were pale too.” Sweet Sally was the first one to look at Pookie and she told mother that his gums looked light pink when he first came in but have gotten pinker since he sat down. When mother looked Pookie over, she noticed the same thing “His gums get pale when he stands up, but pink up again when he lies down. He also seems tender in his belly. Let's run a few tests.” she said.


Pookie got the black and white pictures taken and some of his red syrup removed. When the testing was all done, mother wheeled the stool into the room with Pookie's parents, which I have learned is never a good thing. “Pookie is anemic” she reported “which means he's losing blood. And on the x-rays there seems to be fluid in his belly, and what looks like a mass on his spleen. We need to get a sample of the fluid. If it turns out to be blood then it means his spleen has ruptured, and he'll need emergency surgery to survive.” Pookie's parents nodded their consent and mother returned shortly with a syringe taken from Pookie's belly that was filled with red syrup. “So the fluid in his belly is blood. This means that he likely has a tumor on his spleen that has broken open and is bleeding. He'll need to have his spleen removed to survive. The other thing you need to know is that these are very aggressive tumors and have almost always spread by the time this happens. Even with surgery today, this tumor will likely recur within 6 – 12 months.” Pookie's parents spent some time in the room alone; water coming from their eyes. Pookie's mom poked her head out a few minutes later and said, “we're just not ready to say good-bye today. This is happening too quickly. Please go ahead with the surgery.” So the team went to work; a pinch in the back, a tube in the arm, fluids running and soon Pookie was asleep, upside down getting his belly shaved. Next was mother's turn in the no-awake-dogs-allowed room. The smell of red syrup started to fill the air and about an hour later, Pookie was getting placed back into one of the empty apartments. Another hour later and Pookie was standing up looking for his parents. They got instructions to take him to the overnight clinic for 'observation'. “Thank you so much for giving Pookie a second chance” they said as they carried him out the door. By that time I was too tired to even bark a farewell, but was glad to know that I didn't have to say good-bye.
 
Mother posted some pictures of Pookie's spleen below. Don't look if you get squeamish.

The thin part is the normal part.

Don't worry faithful Ronnie readers....I'm back. Well the truth is I never went away, my blogging connection got temporarily interrupted.


Wednesday was a super busy day. Mother was seeing the visitors and father was cleaning teeth. Helpers, pets and my parents were running all over the place.

Vocal Vonnie fell head over tail in love with one of the visitors. The fluffy little one had wandered up to some new parents and they knew instantly that this was to be their new dog. They called her Gina, until Vonnie pointed out that 'she' was a 'he'. And that's how Gina became Gino. Vonnie wanted Gino for herself and made every effort to convince the new parents that she was the one who had lost him. For those of you that don't know Vonnie very well; she has a thing for boy Pomeranians and Gino was no exception. Mother looked him over and took some red syrup to look for heartworms. There were no worms on the test so Gino left with a clean bill of health, and a promise from Vonnie to take him if things didn't work out.

It seems like our weeks follow a pattern now; a quiet Monday and then a whirlwind Tuesday. And so another hurricane Tuesday rolled in. Mother spent the morning making the visitors nap with the help of some pinch medicine. The large American Bulldog, Bull, came in to have his boy parts removed. After he was done most of his parts looked the same, but it was as if mother just let the air out of the part between his legs. Bea said some of the girls she used to live with had teats that looked like that, especially after they'd had lots of babies, but she'd never see a boy grow anything like it.

Another dog, Smiley, came in and was soon snoring away with the help of mother's sleeping pinch. He had to have one of his big teeth removed. I'd overheard Smiley's mom talk about food falling out of Smiley's mouth, like it hurt him. Mother had found a broken tooth and spent the morning removing it.

When Smiley woke up he wasn't making much sense. He panted something about a dream involving a rock hitting him in the face, and that it didn't hurt him to pant anymore. I was happy to see that Smiley would be smiling again soon.

Dr. G, cat doctor, was also in full swing today. He had a pair of sister kittens come in for their first visit. They were not shy in the least and had a great time roaming around the visiting room. Mother spoke of them having a life-threatening disease, something called 'curiosity', but they didn't look the slightest bit sick to me. My dad let them leave with a smile and wave, so he must have thought that they looked ok too. I guess that's why they call him the cat doctor.

I had a dog filled weekend. And you won't hear me bark one complaint. From my blog on Friday you know that I had a visitor at my den this weekend. Sambuca was lots of fun, but I never did understand the game he wanted me to play. It worked out well that the next day mother took him back to the clinic. Bea and I spent the rest of the weekend with my Aunts Tara and Becky. Usually I see Becky on my turf at the clinic where she specializes in shaking and drooling. She is a different dog in her own territory and a formidable opponent; I have to work very hard for every toy and treat. I was honestly dog-tired by the end of the day. Bea gets tired too, but for a different reason; she has to work hard to find hiding spots.


My parents went off to their special school in Orlando. This time they learned about drugs. I only know this because today at the clinic mother was busy rearranging and organizing all of the pills on the shelves. I don't think I'll ever understand higher education.

The clinic was filled with soothing white noise today. Bea was licking, Sambuca was snoring and Patient Pam was cleaning. Sweet Sally helped mother with some happy visits and all in all it was a nice day. Even our tiniest visitor, an old lady Pomeranian named Pixie, survived eating some of her mother's medication. At least that's what everyone thought. “The pills rolled under the oven” Pixie informed me as she fought to keep down the black charcoal syrup she had been forced to swallow, “why would I eat some bitter pills when I won't even eat dog food” she reasoned. I had to admit that sometimes the humans don't make any sense. I guess that's why my parents had to go to the extra school to understand the drugs. If only the school had known that the pills were under the oven, then Pixie would have been allowed to keep her kibbles down. Goes to show you, school can't teach you everything!

Friday is finally here!  Visitors are great when they're just visiting, but when they start renting villa space and  treating the place like it belongs to them I'm much less enthusiastic.  Mother says that guests are like leftovers, after 3 days they both start to smell.  I've smelled some of mother's leftover and no way do these guests smell that good!
Mikhail has done a good job healing.  Sadly, his aroma of cat nuggets and red syrup is gone.  His mom was able to come and take him home.  I wasn't sad to see him go.  His first few days here he was a typical cat guest; quiet and sulky.  But today he found his voice and was telling everyone that it was time for him to go home.  We agreed. 

Sambuca got all packed up to go home too.  He's been a perfect guest; not so much as a single whine or howl to get out of his apartment.  I was a little sad to be seeing him go.  Little did I realize that the only place he was going was home to my den.  I would happily have endured a little sadness rather than share my den.

I am not the least bit jealous -- just because Sambuca is quiet, polite, has a flatter face than me and everyone thinks he's super cute, is not a reason to be jealous. 

To prove that I could rise above any petty problems (no pun intended), I made every effort to make Sambuca feel welcome.  Bea says he's a big flirt.  I thought he just wanted to play a different kind of game, one I was not familiar with.  It started with us taking turns comparing our tails, whomever puts their tail farther up the other one's nose wins.  Sambuca declared me the winner but then I had to give him a piggyback ride.  Strange game.  I didn't really get it and Bea didn't want to play at all. 

Mother said "Ewwww" when she saw my jacket after we were done playing; it was all wet.  I guess that's what you get for being nice to visitors!

Strange days.  The humans gathered at lunch and raised their voices in song.  I do kind of admire their ability to all sing together, and they don't even throw their heads back when they howl.  It's amazing how the voices carry nonetheless.  Todays song went something like "Happy Bird day to Pam, Your as old as the sand, Happy bird day ear jam.  Happy third day to you."  

I don't pretend to understand this human ritual.  Usually it is followed with blowing on flaming sticks and the eating of cake.  I've only tried the crumbs of the sweet cake and let me tell you that enduring the humans song is well worth the ear ache.  But today, there was no cake to be found.  Instead, an arrangement of sweet smelling fruit pieces appeared instead. 

There must have been something extra special in that fruit because Brawny Brandon and Patient Pam started acting very strange.    Mother always steers clear of the fruit -- now I think I know why. 

Brawny Brandon thought one of the red fruit pieces could look just like his tongue.  Sambuca took one look at the odd party and thought he'd try to fit in.  He managed the look pretty well, and without a strawberry.  He's more talented than I thought.

Our clinic was filled to the brim with the pitter patter of happy feet.  And when I bark about feet, I mean feet, not paws, because the pitter patter was from lots and lots of human feet this morning.  Vocal Vonnie had arranged for a special meeting with Dr. Summit, the pet tooth doctor, and people came from all over to hear him speak.  He brought dog and cat skulls, lots of pictures of teeth and some delicious smelling breakfast snacks.  Bea and I were shuttled to our portable den in the back.  Mother sometimes does this when she wants to have people concentrate on something other than how cute Bea and I are. 

Of course, to add to the chaos of the human visitors we had several dog and cat friends staying for the day.  Giant Mikhail was still there.  His mom wanted to make sure that the smell of cat nuggets and red syrup was well under control before taking him back home.  While I adore the smell of him, mother was less than pleased that Mikhail's odor was the first impression her human guests got of the clinic. 
We've also had another furry friend visiting.  Mother calls it 'boarding' but our villas are much nicer than just some place made out of boards.  His name is Sambuca and he's a pekingnese.  His back went out a few years ago and he had to have special procedure done so he could walk again.  Now his back sometimes still bothers him and he has to get carried everywhere he goes.  None of mother's helpers seem to mind carrying him though.  He's got a cute short face like mine and his tongue's too big for his mouth.  Obviously not quite as adorable as me, but pretty close.
Mother says to bark a "Happy St.Patrick's Day" to everyone, especially people like Vonnie.  I think it's nice that the humans who like to talk a lot and come from a place called 'New York city' get their own day.  I wonder if there will be a Veronica day; everyone could wear large fluffy tails, have a dress-up-and-wag parade and we'd eat all the rabbit nuggets, lean treats and kibbles a pup could ever want.  Now that's my idea of a holiday!

Smell my finger

Mikhail spent the night at the clinic but to my dismay most of his yummy aroma was missing.  I don't think he had moved from where he woke up from his nap.  I'm not sure if that was because he didn't feel well, or because he was just too heavy to move.
Brawny Brandon gave him the soap treatment in the morning and Mikhail regaled us with his singing voice.  All in all he's a pretty mellow cat.  I don't think I would be as polite the morning after father had let his fingers do the walking in my colon.

Mother often refers to my dad as 'Dr. G, cat doctor' and that was definitely true today.  There were two other cats in the clinic for procedures; one having his boy parts removed, the other having his fish breath removed.  My father is super brave working on all those cats too.  Not just because they hiss and scream and swat, but because cats make my father sick.  He doesn't bring up his kibbles or anything, but when cat hair touches his nose the clear slime starts to drip, water fills his eyes and a strange gurgle comes to his throat.  And yet, he will not let a cat visitor go without his help.  I truly love my dad, but sometimes I wish he'd help me as much as he helps the cats that make him sick.  Since yesterday he says that his fingers smell like cat nuggets and he won't even let me lick them.  Come on, dad, just one lick!

Today started out quietly enough.  My parents were up extra early this morning for some reason; mother hurried us out of the den while it was still dark out.  When we got to the clinic I still couldn't figure it out; no visitors were waiting for her.  The morning proceeded smoothly, and all of the visitors were happy.  It wasn't until the afternoon that all the mayhem broke loose.

It started with the biggest cat I've ever seen.  His name was Mikail and he was bigger than me and Bea put together weighing in at over 26 lbs!  He smelled like a cat nugget sand box and I was instantly intrigued.  "He's been having trouble going to the bathroom for quite awhile" Mikhail's mom said "but today I noticed the blood and brought him right over".  Red syrup and cat nuggets, without a doubt two of my favorite smells!  Mother took one look at the large cats' hind end and said "Well, it looks like he's got an anal gland abscess" as she started to put on the green hand coverings.  After feeling around she revised her diagnosis, "The anal gland is infected but I think that Mikhail's biggest problem is that he is very constipated as well.  He'll have to stay to be sedated and disimpacted."  My father got to oversee the removal of all of Mikhail's nuggets while mother continued seeing her afternoon visitors; one dog with heartworms, another bringing up the kibbles, a third needing family counseling for biting his grandmother.  The clinic was humming right along as the sweet smell of cat nuggets filled the air.  Sweet Sally was helping my dad wash the nuggets out and when some of the brown liquid flew through the air and Sally laughingly said "..and that's why you keep your mouth shut when you do this."  Good thing Vocal Vonnie wasn't at the clinic today I thought; she's always wishing she'd kept her mouth shut. 

Teeth.  I've always thought of my teeth as tools; tools to help me eat, tools to help me pick up my toys, and they come in very handy to nip Bea in the backside when she refuses to play with me.  I've never thought to use my teeth as weapons in any real sense.  Sometimes when I'm playing kind of rough with my friends, and they get a little out of control, I'll bite them extra hard just to get them back in line.  But I've never used my teeth to hurt anyone for real. 
The past few days, I've seen several cases where dogs have apparently used their teeth with the sole purpose to inflict harm.  My little human sister, Anna, has gotten in big trouble before for trying to use her teeth.  She sometimes gets really angry when she's playing and not allowed to have her way, and out come the chompers.  My folks get really angry when she tries that.  I've seen her sitting in a special chair facing the wall more times than I can count.  Not that I know how to count anyway.
Yesterday we saw two dog bite cases.  One was on a sweet older Golden Retriever.  Her wounds were more of statment than an injury.  She had two holes on one leg and neither of them were very deep, according to mother. 

The other dog that we saw was named Jack Daniels, he was a pitbull.  Jack had a big giant head, and was every bit as gentle as he was scary-looking.  To bark that he was brought in for a dog bite would be an understatement, sort of like saying that I'm a little bit cute.  It was actually hard to find a place on Jack without a bite wound.  Mother was amazed that he was still standing. Red syrup oozed from his nose, his lips, and three out of four of his legs.  The fourth leg was oddly swollen with straight slashes in his flesh.  "We came home to find that my other dog had been fighting him.  He must have got out of this cage" Jack's father recounted.  Mother and her helpers exchanged knowing glances as they took Jack in to clean his wounds.  "Do you think this is a fighting dog?" Vocal Vonnie asked. " I've never seen a pitbull get this chewed up before.  It's got to make you wonder.  The wounds on the swollen leg look like he was tied down" mother replied.  Jack got the benefit of a sleeping pinch as the team went to work removing all the fur and cleaning his sores, and getting medicine to clear out any infection.  Mother was also worried about the way Jack's heart sounded, "I think these wounds are at least a day old.  I'll bet he's been too weak to drink anything and now he's dehydrated."  So Jack got the fluid treatment too.  Within a few hours his raw, shaved tail was starting to wag. 
Mother talked into the box on the wall asking, "Can someone come down and take a look?  I don't want to scare off the owner, but maybe you can do a drive by their place?  See if there's any signs of other dogs, or a fight ring?" But sadly no one came, not before Jack's dad came to pick him up.  The saddest thing of all was that Jack was wagging his tail more at mother and her helpers than he did when his dad came to get him.  Seeing what another dog had done to Jack with his teeth, really made me realize what weapons teeth can be.  I sure hope that Jack never has to be on the receiving end of those weapons again. 

I discovered a completely new and novel threat today. I was always under the impression that fleas were my biggest enemy.  Bea's had fleas before, and tells stories of the pesky critters keeping you up at night crawling all over your skin.  We've had numerous visitors here at the clinic come in with similar complaints; so itchy they can't sleep, chewing holes in their own skin!  Mother sends them with something called  Comfortis.  It tastes like dirt, but you won't see a flea on me!   Today I realized that fleas are nothing compared to the other crawling creature - the tick.

Jojo, the 85 lb american bull dog was carried in today.  He seemed happy enough, panting and looking around.  As mother looked him over he told me that he'd had the strangest past few days, "It started on Monday, I kept tripping over my feet, by Wednesday I couldn't walk without falling down and today my back legs weren't working at all!  I feel fine, nothing hurts, my legs just won't move!" Jojo panted.  Mother was definitely intrigued, and she told Jojo's parents, "Usually this type paralysis is from a ruptured disk in the back, but that almost always causes severe pain.  Jojo acts like he's perfectly fine otherwise."  No sooner had mother finished explaining disk problems than I heard her say "Ah Ha!" as she pinched a brown ball from off of Jojo's skin.  "It's an engorged tick.... that would explain everything.  Some ticks carry a toxin that will cause tick paralysis.  If this is the problem then Jojo should start walking again in a few days" mother gushed encouragingly.  "You mean ticks can paralyze you?" Jojo's parents asked in disbelief.  "Absolutely, I've seen about three cases of it in my career.  If the tick stays attached long enough, the dogs can even die.  Lucky we found the tick.  Now Jojo stands to make a fully recovery" mother advised.  Patient Pam and Sweet Sally then went about the task of giving Jojo a bath in something called Frontline spray, which was supposed to kill any other ticks that mother didn't find.

Even though that spray smelled really bad, I was hoping that mother would bring some my way.  I cannot have my legs paralyzed by some creepy crawly bug.  That would definitely ruin my signature whole body wag that everyone loves so much.

After the late night last night, we got to sleep in a little today.  And by sleeping in I mean that I wake mother up at the exact same time every day, but after she feeds me and lets me out, I let her go back to sleep for awhile.  Bea and I are extremely thoughtful that way.
Father trudged on into the clinic early.  He had a day of Busters.  Buster One had to get his parts put back in by Dr. Quinn surgery woman.  Buster One has had surgery once a year for the past three years, father says.  His folks say that Buster One must work for the IRS because every year the tax check pays his bills. 
Buster Two, is one of the beagle clan that came to our grand opening party.  He was the newest arrival to the clan and still had all of his boy parts; at least he did until he came in for his sleeping procedure with my dad today.

By the time Bea and I arrived at the clinic there was  quite a duet of singing Busters.  Shortly after we got there, Aunt Becky came for her soap treatment.   Mother couldn't get over how long Becky's nails were.  "It's been too cold to walk her for the past few weeks, so I've just been letting her out in the yard"  Nana said.  "I guess what she doesn't grow in hair, she makes up for in nails!" she added. 

Mother just shook her head, "Poor ugly Becky" she said " a face only my mother could love ".

You would think that a dog that looked like that would make up for her furry shortcomings with a shining personality.  I mean I don't even need to be as sweet and wonderful as I am, given my extreme cuteness, but I can't help it, I just love everybody.  Not ugly Becky, she likes Nana, and her sister Tara, and pretty much growls at everyone else.  Nana says she's all talk, but when it came time to having her toenails done, no one wanted to chance it. 

Becky had to wear a black 'party hat', as sweet Sally calls it.  Call it what you want, it doesn't look like a party to me!

Strange day.  We went from a sleepy Monday to a crazy Tuesday.  In the morning I was certain that there was something wrong with my eyesight.  Everything I looked at was in black and white.  We had two Papillon brothers come in, Harvey and Jack.  They spent the day with us while mother and her helpers gave them pokes, gathered red syrup, trimmed toenails and looked them over.  They were cute boys, but decidedly too bossy.  The Papillons enjoyed one of the big apartments and that somehow made them think that they were in charge of the place.  I had to raise my voice more than a few times, just to drown them out. 

I had to do a double take when the next dog that came to stay also was black and white.  She was a puppy; a screeching, wiggling, wagging puppy.  She was terrified to be by herself, and was shouting to anyone who would listen.  Her name was Hayley.  She took one look at Harvey and Jack, and felt a connection with them.
I was busy being terrified that my eyesight was going and was imagining a future of only black and white.
Then, I looked over at Bea; her pink ear calling to me, longing to be cleaned.  I realized that her pink ear was neither black or white.  What a relief!
As it happens the rest of the visitors were a variety of colors, and I enjoyed every one of them.  At the end of the night we even had a visitor covered in red... syrup that is.  Laughing Laura wasn't laughing when she told the team that the dog, whose name was Bessie, had been "hit by a car".  I've never smelled or seen so much red syrup in one place.  Bessie was bravely stoic, and behaved calmly despite that fact that her elbow was broken in two pieces with bone parts sticking out.  My parents remained calm; father put a plastic tube in the dogs back leg and mother gave her some happy sleep medicine.   With a large bandage on her mangled leg, Bessie went off to the emergency clinic for the night.  Mother's pretty sure that Bessie will have to have her damaged leg removed.  Bessie sure is one tough girl though, if anyone can make it with only three legs, I know she can!

It was the best of times....

No, I really mean it; we had the best time at my parents party on Saturday. Absolutely, everyone was there. It was a sniffers paradise. It seems like Beagles really know how to sniff out a party too, because there were lots of beagles at our grand opening. JJ couldn't make it. I think he just wanted his house to himself for a little while. Kali and Ruben stopped by, and were wearing their Saturday best! They were working hard to win the costume prize money but a cutie pie Min.Pin named Maggie Mae stole the show. Mother's not so much into letting Bea and I get dressed up, otherwise I know that I could have given Mags a run for the prize. We had to wear our black football jackets that mother just loves – go figure.

The best news of the whole day was that Penny got to find a new home. The nice lady from the Canine Castaways van took one look at Penny, started talking into a little box in her ear and the next thing I knew Penny was meeting a nice new family. I think Penny knew it was her big chance. She had stopped growling and me and Bea a couple of days earlier, but I really thought with all the new dogs in the place that she would be extra nervous. But she was just the opposite. As the visitors came in, Penny was wagging her tail and even doing some sweet howl-talking to get attention. That Penny was sure smarter than she looked. Her new family was so happy to have an older dog like her to go walking with. I hope that they'll live happily ever after.

Duke the police dog came and put on a show. All of the little humans were very impressed. I didn't see what the big deal was. So he can sniff things out. Believe me, if mother had any idea how much popcorn and sandwich bits I sniffed out that day, she'd have me working for the police too. Either that or locked in my apartment for the next party, one or the other.

I sure hope that my parents keep having these parties. I was so disappointed that only one of my Brussels relatives came for the gathering. I just know that if I can get the bark out that I can rally the Brussels troops and we can outnumber the Beagles.

What I love most about my clinic is that I learn something new every day!  I realize that I'm young but I don't exactly lead a sheltered life.  I've probably met more dogs in the past year than most pups get to sniff in a whole life time.  I feel that I'm an authority on all things canine, and yet, after a day like today, I find I still have things to learn.

We had the pleasure of some Beagle sisters visiting today.  Their names are Mahjong and Miley. Their dad works next door to our clinic so whenever they need anything they usually stay for the whole day.  This was the first day that they both came together.  The girls needed their nails done and were perfect ladies while their paws were getting worked on. It was only after the pedicures were finished that I found out how close these sisters really were.

I think I've barked about my sister, Bea, before.  She's not really a sister in the sense that we came from the same litter of pups, but rather my sister through life; loving me no matter what.  Miley and Mahjong are the same kind of sisters.  But unlike Bea and I, they choose to show their love for one another in a very different way.

Admittedly, the villas at the clinic are both spacious and private and I could see that the girls would feel perfectly at home.  It wasn't until the entire apartment complex started shaking that I knew something very different was going on.  Bea knew right away, she smelled something in the air.  Penny must have known too, because I caught her tail wagging. My dad said "if the cages are a'rockin' don't come a'knockin' ".  Mother was both shocked and amused wondering, "Are they contributing to a sexually charged work environment?  Do we need to get them a private room?"  All the while the rest of the staff were laughing.   Mahjong and Miley were not fazed in the least and continued their antics for most of the morning.

One of our most handsome guests is a beautiful Labrador Retriever man dog named Dallas.  "He's gorgeous" as vocal Vonnie would say.  "Well I am looking for a mate for him" Dallas' mother offered.  "If you know of any pretty girls for my Dallas, please let me know".  Dallas had his own ideas.  He took one look at the Beagle sisters and thought that he'd found his match.  It was all the girls could do to keep him from knocking down the villa walls. 

As you well know, I'm a big fan of mixed breed dogs such as myself, but something tells me that LabraBeagles were not what Dallas' mom had in mind!

Lots going on at the clinic today.  We had one old blind lady dog in to have her red syrup tested;  father thinks she has the Cushions disease and it caused her to lose her vision.
Dancing Debbie brought her son Prince in to have a pedicure done.  He was really good for it.  I hate having my toenails done.  It doesn't matter if they use the quick-snip tool or the grinder; I hate them both.  I've tried to bite the grinder before, but it doesn't make it stop.

Mother's tail would have been wagging today if it could have.  She's been working to make the clinic pretty and Mr. Kirk came by to help.  Before I knew it, the plain wall was transformed into the most glorious wall of food.  Food, food, as far as my eyes could see.  I could hardly believe it.  I'm pretty sure that if I was a human, water would have come to my eyes.  But instead the water just filled my mouth as I imagined myself scaling the shelves to sample each of the delights. 
Yep, I sure do like coming to the clinic.  And it just keeps getting better. 

I think I'm starting to make some progress in the Penny department.  For the first time, I walked and even sniffed by her apartment and did not get the snarling teeth.  It seems that I am every bit as adorable and irresistable as I'd thought.  I can't say that we're friends yet, especially since she's been rubbing her nose raw to try to hide her food from me, but we're definitely making progress.  And just as Penny was getting used to me and Bea, in walked Aunt Tara and Becky.  Penny gave them the snarl-spit-go-away show, but I can't blame her, Becky is pretty scary looking.
Even though we've been light on visitors, the clinic's busy energy has been steady with everyone putting the finished touches on the party preparations.  My parents finished working with the wet wall color and manage to get it only on the walls today.  Mr. Kirk is due back tomorrow to "make the place look fabulous" as mother says.  Vocal Vonnie spent the day organizing goodie bags and ordering tasty treats.  I did my part and worked tirelessly on Bea's ears.  I want those puppies spotless for Saturday.  A clean ear shows love, that's what I say.

Work is ongoing for the big party on Saturday.  Mother really got into it.  She was in charge of putting new wet color on the walls and managed to color herself too.

 The smell from that color makes you feel funny in your head.  The smell was the reason that I thought I was seeing double today. 

We had two Shelties come in, that looked just like my Aunt Mona.  One I knew pretty well, her name is Alice.  She's been here a lot, usually with her little brother Taco,  attached to her hip.  Today her hip was hurting so she left Taco at home.  Alice had lots of black and white pictures taken to find exactly what was bothering her. "Nothing broken" mother concluded "but Alice has some pretty bad arthritis".  "We're not surprised to hear that" Alice's mother offered "she was abused as a puppy.  She was kept in the basement in her former home, and little kids would ride on her back." Mother was shocked to hear how such a sweet little dog could be so mistreated. 

But she was not nearly as shocked as I was.  At the very same time that Alice was being discussed, I was listening to the sad beginnings of the other sheltie. He had been in the clinic overnight for bringing up his kibbles.  His name was Ubu.  "I've lived a good long life" he started "although it didn't start off so good.  I was kept in the basement for the first 6 months of my life.  Finally I was rescued by my human parents.  Since then I've lived a life of luxury, but my time in the darkness has never left me.  I only really come alive at night.  My parents like to say I'm 'nocturnal', whatever that means."  Listening to Alice's story, and then to Ubu's I couldn't help but wonder if they shared the same basement at some point in time. 
I didn't even know what a basement was until Bea explained it to me.  Apparently it's part of a house that is under ground; usually cool, dark and with the comforting smell of earth.  But neither of the sheltie's stories sounded comforting.  No wonder they are both such tolerant patients; compared to life 'in the basement' time spent in our clinic is a walk in the park.

See a Penny pick it up......

Monday morning arrived as expected and there Penny was to greet us.  And by greet us I mean have all her hair stand up on end and snarl at me and Bea. So far, I haven't got close enough to Penny to see if she really means what she says. Mother's fond of reminding everyone that Bea growled and snapped and me when we first met, and now Bea's a big push over.  Mother says Penny's really a good dog; and by good dog she means that she doesn't yell at any strangers or mark her cage with the yellow liquid.  She spent the day taunting me and Bea by leaving a completely full bowl of food in her villa and not eating it.  I even smelled some super delicious treats intentionally left uneaten. Mother thinks Penny is just used to eating people food.  Mother says we're just going to wait her out until she gets hungry.  My plan is to sneak into her villa when she's out for a walk and polish off her leftovers.  I've never met a leftover I didn't like.
Mother and  Brawny Brandon worked on Penny's sore anal gland.  Penny did not like it one bit!  Mother says "It's healing just fine".  I don't know how long Penny will be staying with us because I heard mother talking about her to someone today.  I don't think she's a bad dog, but you do have to wonder about anyone who doesn't like me.
The clinic was kind of busy today otherwise.  Mother mostly saw itchy dogs with problems ranging from flea bites, to tick bites, to growing yeast and allergies.  Father was working to get the place ready for the big party on Saturday.   I can't wait!  It's going to be just my thing; wagging hello to throngs of future friends and showing off my den away from den.   Many of the pets mentioned in this blog will likely be there, and I'm always looking for new friends to feature.  Plan on coming to clinic at 10 am on Saturday; you won't want to miss it!