Circus Dogs

America,

I would like to introduce you to the veterinarian nuisance. His name is Gus. He's become the black sheep of our animal family. He's the naughtiest, most troublesome, neurotic, overbearingly ridiculous four legged creature I have ever loved.

Today we took Gus in for his annual exam/shots/doctoring. We didn't even make it out of the van, before the images of Marley and Me started flooding through my brain. The dog was about to pass out from pulling so frickin hard against the leash that I think he nearly suffocated himself. The hyperventilating was real, and it wasn't all mine.

Now I pride myself on my abilities to train, equip, and handle dogs. Gus is good on a leash. I walk him all the time with no troubles. The problem with Gus is he's smart. Too smart. He forgets nothing.

He used to be great at the vet! He was calm, cool, collected. He'd mosey on in with me, and hang out quietly in the waiting room. Sure he would struggle when he wanted to greet someone or play, but what dogs don't do that? It all changed when we let them take away his cojones. From that moment, he has viewed veterinarians as the foundations of hell, and he hates them. No, he abhors them. I promise you, America, he remembers what they did to him!

You know those times when you've been to the vet and sat there listening to a dog scream bloody murder and thought to yourself Geez, I wish those people would get control of that dang dog!? You know you've had that experience. Don't lie to yourself or to me, America. It's not nice. I will confess that I used to do that all the time. I'd sit there with Jake and think Thank God I know how to control my dogs... That's pride. Jesus hates pride. Hence why he gave me a circus dog, with freak intellectual abilities. Now I am the person, sitting in the vet, being judged. We literally had someone say today What the HECK is the matter with that dog???? Oh my gosh!!!!!! Someone else said What happened to him that makes him act like this?! I said What happened? He got neutered. And he remembers it. He hates these people.

We were ushered in to a room relatively quickly. I think they understand that my dog is about to have a complete nervous breakdown (as opposed to a partial nervous breakdown. Stop laughing America. Breakdowns are no joke. Shame on you) and they try to help. In the room, the tech says Um... he is labelled a "caution" dog. So we need to put a muzzle on him. I lowered my head in shame, turned to Gus and said Do you see what you've done??? You've brought shame to the family! Indecente!

Gus does not like for vet's to touch his genitals or his booty. He has decided that his sex organs are off limits to medical personnel. Maybe he's listened in too much on my talks with the kids about perverts, and he's absorbed the information. Maybe in his genius brain, I am pinning him down to let some sicko molest him. I have no idea.

Now Gus is not all flaws. This dog has been taught to put a tennis ball in your hand and place items in your lap. He can open doors and knows unique words that are not common to dogs. He passionately loves music, but is selective about the type that he likes. He seriously has a music taste. You know how I know this? Because he dances. That's right America. Gus dances. Did I teach him that? Nope. He just did it. And he'll only dance to a certain type of music. He is insanely in tune with my emotional state. If I am ever so slightly agitated or frustrated or sad, he'll start doing random hilarious things to make me laugh. One time I was feeling frustrated and he took his toy in his mouth and started trying to do a side flip, sort of like how dolphins jump up and over to their side. He continued the action until I laughed. He is the smartest dog I've ever known. Every command he's ever been taught has usually taken 1-3 times of showing it to him and then he's got it down solid. He learned sit in two tries, when he was 7 weeks old. No. joke.

But you know how annoying it is when you're at the vet listening to some dog sing the "song" of his people? You know when you think your eardrums have burst from that irritating dog that just won't shut up and you think you're going to lose your mind? That's probably Gus, America. It's probably him mourning the loss of his testicles, and singing to the world about the misery of it. I apologize.