“Remoted” Day 332 (Thursday)

Vacation Day. Check!

Like 95% of my vacation days, this one was scheduled to go to the vet. Today was Moose’s appointment for the mysterious limping situation. The traffic was reasonable, and I arrived 10 minutes early for the 8:00 drop off. Unfortunately, that left me waiting for 40 minutes in the car with Moose because the person opening the office was a half hour late. Oops. Stuff happens. I got to play Candy Crush and tell Moosie what a good boy he is in both English and Finnish. Moosie on hyvä poika!

Moosie good boy.

Moose was a trooper. He rarely seems nervous when going into the office.  When the tech picked him up to take him away, he didn’t even growl at her like he growls at me when I try to pick him up. Then, as she carried him off, he didn’t even look back at me. What a little traitor.

It is Dad’s 80^th birthday today, so I got to enjoy a breakfast visit with him at my sister’s house. For about two decades he said he was 29, then for the next two decades he said he was 39. And now suddenly he’s saying he’s 80. How did this happen? It may explain my own deeply rooted denial of my own age.

After more than five hours at the vet office, Moose was ready to be picked up. The vet called and said there was nothing immediately noticeable in the x-rays to explain the limping, but she noticed he has an enlarged heart to go along with his heart murmur. The x-rays will go to a specialist for additional analysis, and Moose has two new meds to help with pain, a possible nerve issue, and inflammation. Because I was just about to leave my sister’s when the call came, I was on the phone call in the car in her driveway and not taking notes like I would be if I were at home, by the time I arrived at the office I had pretty much forgotten what else she said beyond keeping him off the stairs.

Just another night. Yawn.

At pick up time, I heard Moose barking the minute I entered the office.  The tech at the desk said she had just come in a short time earlier, and he was barking the entire time. Sounds about right. The little dude is very vocal sometimes. Wednesday, when I was out front shoveling, he was inside howling like a forlorn hound dog. Luckily for the vet office, Moose was regaling them with the regular barking and not the tortured howl. He slept in his bed on the back seat floor the entire ride home.

Upon our arrival home, we were met at the door by Winston. He barked, jumped, and wagged his tail in what felt like a celebration. Most likely, he was just happy that the Keeper of the Cookies was back and could resume the cookie dispensing duties. After supper and medications, the boys settled in and lounged and slept and snored on the couch. Winston hogged the blanket, and it was just another normal night after another expensive veterinary vacation day.