She really hates going to to vet. Always has. Way back when we were allowed to go into the vet, she would sit in the chairs for pet owners during the exam. I think she assumed this trick the vet into not touching her.
Anyhow, we pulled into the parking lot and she knew what was up. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday and we went for an early morning drive to the vet. She panicked. I had to perform a complex dog extraction procedure. It started out pretty graceful, and ended like a pro wrestling match gone bad.
In other news, she looks tiny in that picture. She is actually a 100 pound/45kg fur beast. I do believe, if she wanted to, she could pull my Expedition EL down the road.
She had an ear infection a few weeks ago (this is how we found the tumor), and a nice young vet tech comes out to the car to get Lacie. The vet tech was probably 5 foot tall and maybe 95 pounds. I told her Lacie is really strong and doesn’t want to be here. “Oh, I work with dogs all the time. All good”. Oook. I hand her the leash. And off they go, away from the building, vet tech trying to stay upright.
This, BTW, is a clear indication of my incompetence at training her.
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