M is for.....muzzle!
Then a dog began to howl somewhere in a farmhouse far down the road, a long, agonized wailing, as if from fear.
The sound was taken up by another dog, and then another and another, till, borne on the wind which now sighed softly through the Pass, a wild howling began, which seemed to come from all over the country, as far as the imagination could grasp it through the gloom of the night.
Bram Stoker, Dracula.
The sound was taken up by another dog, and then another and another, till, borne on the wind which now sighed softly through the Pass, a wild howling began, which seemed to come from all over the country, as far as the imagination could grasp it through the gloom of the night.
Bram Stoker, Dracula.
Preparations for our visit to the Isle of Man started many many months ago, infact almost a year. Our ferry is booked, our accomodation is booked and arrangements have been made with the kennels and cattery, so Wilma, Elsie and Ella will be well cared for. A neighbour will be keeping an eye on the house and also putting Jo into his shed of an evening and letting him out each morning. We have had Jo's shed door repaired with new lock and the cracked glass has been replaced so his shed is secure, warm and cosy.
Monday evening saw the next phase of our expedition fit into place...almost.
The visit to the vets for the vacination booster and kennel cough treatment....read on at your peril, but you have been warned!
It has to said, Wilma and Elsie, although both adopted are not the best of friends so a trip to the vets has to be well thought out.
I would set off first with Wilma, Jon would follow with Elsie in the pick-up.
As we were driving to Guisborough I could see a huge nose resting on the dashboard next to Jon...Elsie was watching us, watching her. How she loved the fact that out of three possible choices, she had been the bitch chosen to sit next to the master!
We pulled up outside the vets where newly painted double yellow lines had been painted...so we had to drive further, park up and walk to the vets.
I went in front and Elsie was pulling to be nearer Wilma, not I fear to give her a loving lick!
We burst into the vets and after giving our details sat at opposite ends in the waiting room.
As we tried to settle them both down Wilma started howling....Elsie followed!
The surgery was ringing with the anguished, ascending tones.
Wilma looked like some sort of wolf as she threw her head back with gusto and bellowed her tale of woe to the surgery, nay the town, nay the region, for anybody to hear.
After what seemed an unimaginable length of time (probably 2 minutes) the surgery door opened and the vet, other dog & other dog owners calmly walked through the door.
Jon & I caught each other's glance as we both gazed in awe at this model behaviour we were witnessing!
The vet called out "Wilma!"(By this time we had swapped dogs as Jon's strength would be needed!)
Jon stood up and entered the surgery door.
Jon, in control, calm, relaxed!
Elsie and I sat on the other side of the door and heard bang after howl after crash after smash!
With each howl or screech from Wilma Elsie replied , only louder.
The comotion continued, followed by a series of doors being slammed for some time...then silence.
The door opened and out exploded Jon and Wilma.
To say they were looking the worse for wear is an understatement.
Jon looked like something which belonged on a porch floor, such was the amount of course dog hairs which by this time he was covered with. His face was a shade of red I had not witnessed for some years, infact my mind clocked back to the men's medical ward I had assisted on as a teenage nurse aid! One man in particular sprang to mind....how did I know the urine bottle had a crack in the rim of the glass neck?
In Jon's free hand was a muzzle!
Wilma was somehow spinning in mid air indicating the level of co-operation she was willing to give!
Apparantly Wilma had not had the treatment...she had growled at the vet...who then produced a muzzle........need I say more?
A breathing space, calming down moment was needed...so it was Elsie's turn.
Well ofcourse she did not want to set paw in "THAT" room!
From what she had just heard this was the last place on the planet she wanted to explore........but she had no choice.
"Hello Elsieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee" said the vet......"Are we going to be a good girl?"
Have you ever heard a German Shepherd swear? Well I did at this precise moment!
The growl and snarl which followed told the vet the answer...so guess what comes out?
Yes...another muzzle.
Now the thing is a muzzle can be adjusted, but this is something you realise after the first few attempts have been unsuccessful, but we did manage...all three of us, to get the muzzle onto Elsie's nose and by some amazing piece of luck the vet administered the spray directly up Elsie's nostril.
"All over!" the vet shouted out, a little too enthusiastically I thought at the time, I must say.
"Is that everything?" I asked...
"Yes, she's done now!"
I hurried Elsie out of the surgery and through the waiting room................no sign of Wilma and Jon.
I went outside to find Jon with Wilma on the lawned area outside the surgery!
Both looking the worse for wear!
"Hurry up!" Jon screeched.
As I rushed past him I noticed the muzzle still in his hand!
I decided this wasn't the right time to enquire how progress was going, instead I ran to my car, put Elsie inside, opened the window to allow her some air and ran back to assist!
Jon was now laying next to Wilma who was flapping about on the ground.
"Here" he shouted, as he threw the muzzle to me..."Put this on Wilma!"
Do you remember Crocodile Dundee? Well Wilma must have remembered the crocodiles because she was giving a mighty fine impression of one.
Her head was spinning from side to side, her jaws snapping open and shut to reveal her wonderfully kept and ready teeth.
"My my, what big teeth you've got Wilma" sprang to mind, but I thought it wise to keep the words to myself.
After several attempts we failed terribly so I went inside to ask if we could get some sedation for Wilma.
The vet came outside just as Wilma had a mini-second relapse, sighed and took a breath!
Quick as a flash Jon jumped on the back of Wilma, grabbed her head, I was on the ground too, with the muzzle and from behind I snapped it on.
Wilma, attempted to jump up, but with Jon & I both where we were she gave in...we shouted to the vet to go and get the treatment!
Vet rushed inside the surgery, returning with the syringe.
She too joins us on the floor and quickly squirts the liquid straight up Wilma's nose.
Phew!
We all composed ourselves...Jon's face had gone up two tones of purple, he had gained more credability as wolfman due to the massive amount of dog hair which covered his face, chest and arms, and the perspiration was pouring.
He took Wilma to the pick up and returns to the surgery.
By this time I am settling the bill.
It is only as the bill is itemised that the receptionist questions the treatment.
I tell her...vaccinations AND treatment against kennel cough.
She just needed to have a word with the vet....
Jon enters.
Vet emerges...
"Sorry, I thought it was just kennel cough prevention, I have not given the vaccination, you will have to come back!"
So Wednesday 5pm we return with Elsie...notice WE return with ONE dog.
Wilma, we have to take when she is wearing a muzzle.
"Play with the muzzle" says the vet!
Wilma will think it's a game!
(Like what are you on vet?)
So we are now introducing a new game...let's play with the muzzle doggies!
My photo for the day......Elsie earlier Tuesday afternoon with the muzzle!
How long was it on?
6 seconds!
Watch this space!
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