I had to take my dogs to the vet for a "personality test" this morning. Who would have thought there was such a thing? We are trying to get them into a program called "Human Animal Bond" where we can take them on visits to nursing homes. The vet had to test them to see how they react to new situations and new people.
It's funny when you take your dogs to a veterinary clinic. Clearly a million dogs have been through (and peed all over) this place. My dogs plastered their noses to the floor the second we walked in, and never lifted their heads and never stopped frantically pacing around sniffing. It was like having two bloodhounds on the trail of a raccoon in there. They were positively electrified by all the smells of this place.
Rigger passed the personality test with flying colors. He tipped the scales at 152 pounds. He's just a lovable old oaf, completely unaware of his hugeness as he is terrified by strollers, flags, people in coats, and plastic bags to name a few things. Recently, I accidentally dropped something on the floor while he was napping, and he jumped up and shot out of the room without even looking back to see what made that loud noise. Good thing I wasn't being attacked, because I would have just had to save myself.
Ringo didn't do so well. At only 42 pounds, he thinks he is huge and can take on anything that comes his way. He spends every day looking out the window at the squirrels who are walking down the sidewalk and just having fits to get out there and try to catch one. When the vet took him back for the personality test, he apparently put himself in a corner and snarled at the vet. So, he won't be taking a trip to the nursing home any time soon.
The last order of business was to have the dogs microchipped. Let me tell you, the needle they used to inject that thing in was the size of a STRAW. I kid you not. If anyone had come at me with a needle that big I would have flatly refused whatever medication they had been planning to insert. Rigger of course, never let on that he noticed someone had just stabbed him in the back with a spike (just like he did during his last prostate exam). Ringo yelped acted like he was being murdered (just like he did during his last prostate exam).
We also had to take in "fecal samples" for examination. Ben thought that was pretty gross until I told him, "Wait until you're an adult and they ask you to poop and pee in a container." He responded, "That's fine as long as I get to extract it myself. I don't want anyone going in after it." LOL