The happy dance
I so desperately do not want to be one of those people who is all about her dog, but I have to express my enormous relief that Tucker has finally been declared worm-free.
This is huge for several reasons: (1) he's healthy, finally; (2) he can get neutered, finally; and (3) Smelmooo and I can stop feeling like terrible pet owners, finally. I literally was sweating and having palpitations as I was dialing the vet's office to get the results, and steeling myself not to cry if it was bad news. I just didn't know what I'd do if he was still sick; it seemed like there was nothing else we could do, and that we'd just have to do another six weeks of treatment.
But it was all good news, and I hung up the phone and said, "Tucker! You're worm-free! Hooray!" and I threw my hands up over my head, as I do when I'm excited and happy about something (you'll see plenty of photos of me doing this, particularly during our honeymoon, when part of the Smelmooo's self-described "genius" often involved, "Hey, honey! Run up the steps of the Acropolis, turn around, and do your 'Yay!' pose while I take your picture.").
And Tucker did the same thing, up on his hind legs, paw up in the air, so we were dancing around the living room together, celebrating his newfound good health.
I called Smelmooo (today he's in D.C., as I was yesterday; we are lately ships passing in the night, sadly), and he cheered along with us, and when I told him Tucker was cheering, too, Smelmooo said, "Yeah, for now. Wait 'til he figures out what they're gonna do to him now that he's healthy enough for the big snip."
An excellent point, but for now we'll just revel in the good news of the day.
This is huge for several reasons: (1) he's healthy, finally; (2) he can get neutered, finally; and (3) Smelmooo and I can stop feeling like terrible pet owners, finally. I literally was sweating and having palpitations as I was dialing the vet's office to get the results, and steeling myself not to cry if it was bad news. I just didn't know what I'd do if he was still sick; it seemed like there was nothing else we could do, and that we'd just have to do another six weeks of treatment.
But it was all good news, and I hung up the phone and said, "Tucker! You're worm-free! Hooray!" and I threw my hands up over my head, as I do when I'm excited and happy about something (you'll see plenty of photos of me doing this, particularly during our honeymoon, when part of the Smelmooo's self-described "genius" often involved, "Hey, honey! Run up the steps of the Acropolis, turn around, and do your 'Yay!' pose while I take your picture.").
And Tucker did the same thing, up on his hind legs, paw up in the air, so we were dancing around the living room together, celebrating his newfound good health.
I called Smelmooo (today he's in D.C., as I was yesterday; we are lately ships passing in the night, sadly), and he cheered along with us, and when I told him Tucker was cheering, too, Smelmooo said, "Yeah, for now. Wait 'til he figures out what they're gonna do to him now that he's healthy enough for the big snip."
An excellent point, but for now we'll just revel in the good news of the day.
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