Farm Fresh Blog

A freshly bathed, freshly fluffed Briar slept in the house last night. Early this morning I roused Other Half out of bed so we could load her up in my old Toyota 4Runner for her trip to the vet. It took two of us - and Lily.  The air conditioner was already running, so once inside she looked to Border Collie as an example and consequently, settled right down. She rode like she'd been doing it all her life.

To get to the clinic, we must pass through YuppyLand. Briar saw things she'd never seen before - joggers, bicyclists, traffic, convenience stores!  It was a whole new world and she gazed upon it with calm interest.  Lily slept. She's been there, done that, didn't want the t-shirt.

Once at the vet's clinic, Lily escorted Briar inside.

"Who do we have today?" the receptionist asked.

"Briar, and Briar's Courage," I told her as Lily pranced her tiny hiney into the clinic beside her slinking, hulking companion.

The vet came out to welcome Briar to the clinic.  Since she knows him as Uncle Steven, who comes to babysit her, doctor sheep, and milk goats, she wasn't afraid.  She went into the kennel and settled down to observe this new world of stainless steel and disinfectant. As soon as the door was closed, her tiny companion forgot about her. We were at the VET'S!  The Land Of Cookies & Cream Cheese! Forget Briar!  She was on her own!

I signed the form and Lily and I headed home. Several hours later, Briar was ready. Getting her back into the car was another two-person adventure, but once inside, she settled down nicely and watched the world with a placid look on her face.  She's really a pretty calm dog. (but then again, maybe that was the drugs!)  My only experience with surgery showed me that the effects of anethesia could be worse than the surgery itself.  I threw up my toenails.  Mindful that Briar may be feeling the same way, I drove like a little old lady on my way back through YuppyLand. This proved a bit much for drivers used to the hustle and bustle of Life in the Fast Lane. YuppyLand is a world of jack rabbit starts where you zoom as fast as you can to reach the next red light. Turns are to be made sharply and a high speeds so as not to break the flow of traffic.  Briar and I simply don't fit in. Briar threw up. I drove even more slowly. The trip home was an adventure.

Let me first explain that no one died. I am a cop in the 4th largest city in the country. I straddle dead men for a living. I carry a Smith & Wesson. I am NOT likely to be intimidated by a Little League Dad in a Lincoln Navigator. 

Sooooo . . . Forget about the dog. Beware of the owner!

But I will leave you with this thought - before you get in such a hurry that you attempt to bully another driver on the road, be aware that the driver may be carrying a nauseous dog who just had surgery . . . and they may be armed . . .  and they may not be scared of you.

Briar came home . . .

         . . .  and threw up in the den.

(I make no apologies for "Driving Miss Daisy.")