I will say out loud what most of you are thinking. (1) It was my idea to get a puppy. (2) For the most part, dacshunds are difficult, hard headed, spoiled brats and (3) I should have done a much better job of training and socializing him. We did take him in Home Depot, Atwoods and a few places that allow dogs but . . I could be making excuses . . we don’t go out much. Vince said “How can we socialize the dog when we aren’t socialized?” That was kind of a joke but some truth too.
We took Oscar to the vet this morning. If you saw my arms now, you would think I lost a knife fight. I gave him a Benadryl one hour before we left home. Next time, I’ll do it 1.5 hours.
Not only is he not very social but he is scared to death of everything he isn’t used to doing. He was in a panic just sitting in the car without it moving. I told Vince we’re going to have to start taking him on short little runs to town when Vince is running in the store for one thing so he can get used to the car.
I suggested the tech put a muzzle on him. He isn’t a biter so long as people don’t reach for him but I was afraid he was going to feel like he was backed into a corner and he might bite. She got out the muzzle and I asked if she wanted me to put it on. She didn’t want my help. She talked to him a second, handed him a tiny little treat. He seemed fine. She went to put the muzzle on and he growled and snapped but didn’t make contact so she then handed me the muzzle to get on him.
He hollered like he was dying before the vet ever touched him. They drew blood, gave him his shots, cut his nails, checked his ears, expressed his glands. He was extremely vocal about his displeasure with all of it but they were fast and we were out of there quickly. I apologized to the vet for his behavior and she said “That’s ok. He’s . . (and I could tell she was searching for words) not the worst we’ve ever seen!”
That’s comforting. My cute little dachshund isn’t the worst dog in town.
We got home and the real fun began. Oscar had never had a bath. With new furniture arriving this afternoon (though it will always have a slip cover on it) and after the glands having been expressed, he got a bath. I told Vince . . we may need to call Servicemaster there’s so much water in the laundry room. Poor baby. I guess he figured he was not going to survive the trip to the vet, the shots, the nail trim, and now a bath. I told Vince . . next time it’s your turn to bathe him. Thank goodness for the laundry room sink . . I would hate to have to bathe him in the bath tub.
The Benadryl is now working or else he is totally worn out. He’s in my lap sleeping.