Thursday, April 9, 2015

Worst Birthday Ever!

My name is Daisy the Dachshund and here is my sad story. Get our your hankies. Yesterday was my twelfth birthday. That’s a lot in dog years.  Instead of having a wonderful cake with liver and chicken filling, I got to go to the vet.  

That’s right. THE VET!  That's where the people all look very nice and call you by your name and then they get you with something sharp when you let down your guard. I try to get as many treats as possible out of them before the pull that stunt.  But yesterday, no such luck.  My mom and dad took me.  And hold on to your hats, it gets worse.  

At the vet’s, I had dental work and X-rays and a scope up my nose. That’s what I heard after. I was doped at the time and unconscious.  Some kind of Mickey Finn.  

Mom said it’s not her fault. The vet had to reschedule and this was the Plan B day.  I didn’t get a vote.  I would have picked April 8, 2025 as Plan B. 

But no one asked me.  And I got no breakfast (on my birthday!!!!) and only half my dinner. That’s right. Half. My. Dinner. This was the worst birthday ever.
The only bright note was this one little squeaky toy. I already killed the squeak (five minutes - close to a record), but the toy makes a nice cushion, . 

I am thinking of running away from home as soon as there’s no more chance of ‘borrowing’ some of those Easter dinner leftovers when they’re making soup in the kitchen.

What? Yes, sure, Lily was at the vet too.  That’s right. She did have a fractured tooth extracted, a big tooth with three roots and one of these roots had a hook. She has stitches and painkillers. And she has to go back again next month for another one. 

But it was not her birthday, so really what’s the big deal?

I told Lily to pull herself together!
Anyway, don’t worry about her.  I’m still here, you know.

And if you want to help me, you could send treats! And squeakie toys! And soft blankies! We’re down to just eight blankies around this so-called house.  


And you know what?  I wouldn’t mind some kind of an incline plane so I can get to the fridge door. I’m pretty sure I could get it open if I could reach it. 

No, Lily. It's not your turn.   Well, I don't know when,

All to say, waiting to hear from you nice people.  Oops! Here comes Mom.  We're not allowed at the keyboard. Back to bed.

XO Daisy

Dear everyone:  I am so sorry about Daisy's naked bid for gifts. Now that she's learned to keyboard, it can be embarrassing.  Any training suggestions from you pet lovers?

MJ (feeling unaccountably guilty)