Functional with Flair

Took my Zane into the vet this morning for his chest X-ray. Lordy, that was heart wrenching. Poor Zane has had ouchy surgeries for his ears before, and seen our other dog Clair taken to the vet, and not come back, and is all around terrified of other animals and new places. As we were standing in line he was shaking so hard he couldn’t stand, he kept falling down. Then I have to take him into the back where there are all these other big, young, tear your throat out, probably cross bred with mutated, violent bulls, dogs in tiny cages. And Zane is shaking and pacing and looking up at me like “don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. I’ll be better. Don’t leave me. I’ll be a good dog. Why are you punishing me?” Ow, my heart. So I sit on the ground and hold him, and pet him, and talk to him, try to get him to calm down and know that I’m coming back for him, but it kill me because I know he doesn’t understand. He’s such a good pup. Never growls or bites or is anything but a sweet cat lovin’ child-face-licking canine. He wouldn’t get in the cage on his own, but I put his front paws up there and he didn’t fight it. I picked up his back legs and maneuvered him into the cage and he just shook and accepted it. Poor baby. I wish I could stay and sit with him so he would know that we’re not abandoning him because he’s old and can’t walk like he used to. I know it’s just an X-ray, but it’s all sad.