Yesterday when we went to pick Rita up at the vet, while waiting for them to bring her out to us, there was a dog in the back that was just screaming! I asked Vince if that was Rita and he said he didn’t think so. We kept waiting for her to come out; that dog kept screaming, and I was about to panic. She does jump if they put her in one of the top cages, she will jump out when they open the door so they always have to be careful with her. She did that before she was blind too. I always remind them “She jumps from the top cages!” but they always already remembered so I’m betting they have that notation on her chart.
After a few more minutes of that dog screaming, Vince asked “That’s not Rita, is it?” The lady at the front said no, it’s a dog that does it the entire time they’re cutting her nails and she does it every time!
Vince and I got in the car and we were laughing because Speck always thought he was so bad . . til he got to the vet and then he turned into a screaming, crying wimp!
I can’t tell you how much I miss that dog!
He was so beautiful and had just a fun personality. If I could get another dog just like him, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
He loved spaghetti and no matter how hard I tried to be sure he didn’t know we were eating spaghetti, he always knew it. He’d start out standing by where Vince was sitting and he’d beg for a noodle. (Speck, not Vince)
When Vince didn’t give him one, he’d start nudging Vince with his nose against Vince’s leg. That would progress to him jumping up and hitting Vince’s thigh with his nose. Finally, he’d start barking non-stop. Eating spaghetti with Speck around was not a lot of fun because he was so determined to get his share. Obviously, Vince gave him enough pasta to keep him coming back begging for more.
Once at the vet in Kentucky, we walked in, registered and I sat down with Speck. He began hollering. He kept hollering. They called one lady back and she came over to me and asked if I wanted to go ahead of her. I said no . . I’ll wait my turn. She asked if he was injured and I said no . . this is what he does every time we’re here. We’re just here for a nail trim! She said “Oh, my goodness. I thought he’d been hit by a car or something!”
When they would take him back to get his nails trimmed, I would leave the building and go outside and wait because I couldn’t stand to hear him screaming. They weren’t hurting him. He had clearish white nails so they could see the quicks. He just thought he was going to die every time he went to the vet.
It was sad, but yet funny, hearing that dog at the vet today and then having our conversation on the way home about old Speck.
I hope that dog knew how much I loved him. I walk past his grave several times a day and I stop every time and remember what a great dog he was.