racing through my mind last night-- or at least circling around endlessly:
"i am a SHIT pet owner, and if there were ever a private hell reserved for screwed-up pet abusers my name would be first on the freaking list."
although-- like dissolving into a furious wet mess while holding a pad of tissues against my dog's profusely-bleeding ear as my mum sped all the way to an emergency clinic was any use at all. pathetic.
came home from dance after fetching my sister to find dad scrubbing the garden while my dog was still oozing blood from inside his ear. ok, not oozing-- every time he shook his head in helpless irritation there'd be blood splatters all over everything-- shoe cabinet, tables, lamps, walls, floor. worse still there were occasional clots of blood-- large and so dark red they looked black.
five minutes after my dad had stuck a plumb of cotton wool in the black lump's ear-- despite my sister and me telling him not to since the creature would just shake it out-- he shook it out. yar, duh. we chased him all over and my dad plugged his ear again.
five minutes later the cotton wool was entirely bloodsoaked and had fallen out and the black lump was bleeding everywhere again. my dad-- mostly for the benefit of my mum, who had just reached home and was eating a very late dinner-- threw a hissy fit and flung everything on the floor. some people think the world can operate on solar power-- my dad apparently is of the opinion that sound can power the world. as he screamed i looked my mother in the eye, trying not to panic, and told her we had to get dalphie to a vet because the new wad of tissues i was holding to his ear was completely bloodsoaked. my sister went online and hunted until she found the contact numbers of 2 vets and called and found out consultation and ambulance fees-- 100 for before 12 and 200 for after midnight. my mum had wanted the ambulance so that she wouldn't get blood all over her car; on hearing the fees my dad roused himself enough from his petulance to say "why don';t you just fetch him there?!"
honestly, the two of them. but at least my mum immediately got up and went to line the car with papers and then hightailed it all the way-- the speedometer never fell below 100. at the clinic the vet-- dr james tan and his assistant, who was an absolute godsend-- eyed his ear and, to my everlasting horror, said, "*mumble mumble* maggot."
MAGGOTS.
WHAT THE HELL.
bloody summer and bugger its many flies. apparently it's a condition that happens to old dogs a lot, and i'm suspecting especially to pointy-eared dogs like the black lump (as opposed to golden retrievers or floppy foldovers). basically they get old and fat and lazy and then don't bother to swat away flies when the stupid critters come near them. and because my dog is perenially prone to ear infections some stupid fly crawled into his ear two days ago and laid eggs there. and the eggs hatched, and maggots developed, and they started chewing at the insides of his ear canal. and that was the reason behind all the blood.
i felt SUPREMELY horrible because-- the lump has a habit of whining to be let in when it's thundering. and yesterday it rained a little and stayed overcast and he was whining and crying like mad, and i thought he wanted attention, so i rapped him on the snout for being whiny. HE WASN'T WHINING. he was in extreme and horrible pain and discomfort.
bloody hell.
currently sitting here waiting for the h2o2 to settle before giving my dog his eardrops and anti-whatever powder. anti-maggots probably. *glOOm* i AM a shit pet owner.
but at least i wasn't petulant. seriously-- what is the goddamn use of "washing the garden 3 or 4 times already" (a number that got inflated to 4 or 5 times and would have escalated had we stayed around to listen) when it's obviously not helping the source of the problem at all?? how the heck does losing your temper help, when it's not like the miserable dog can tell himself to stop bleeding or something? is it some relic of being stuck in the government service for the past 33 years or something-- you end up treating only the symptoms and never the source, and you always need some form of "higher=up" authorisation before you can do anything? or even bother to take the initiative at all? it's not like the first time this has happened already. and OMG that infamously useless temper. i've inherited it, unfortunately, but at least i'm trying to control it.
trust me this is a very toned-down rant already. last night i was swearing like mad in the car as we sped off and i think even my dog realised i was on the verge of screaming insanity. it's not fair-- he quite likes car rides, but it seems like the only times he gets to go in the car are when he's being rushed to the vet. wthhhh. i'm screwing up my dog's life :(:(:(:(
and i think there's something to be said for-- ok, judge for yourself.
1) my mum was the one who sped all the way to the clinic.
2) she was also the first one i managed to speak sensibly to-- as in, to say that we had to go to a vet.
3) my sister was the one who googled to check what could be the cause of the bleeding and what to do about it,
4) and later, to find out contact numbers and to call to check consultation fees and ambulance costs
5) my other sister dabbed up all the spots of blood as soon as she got back home from aikido practice and calmed the dog and got his leash and headed with us to the vet despite having school the next day at 9am. i think we reached home at just before 2.
6) i-- oh well i went along for the ride and became a complete wreck over my dog, but that's er beside the point. actually ok just ignore point 6 it doesn't really support my point at all.
7) ah ha. yes. my mum paid the vet fees, and i am secure in the knowledge that every one of us there-- even my spendthrift of a super-junior-mad-second-sis-- could have paid too (just means forgoing about 6.5 pairs of sale-price fcuk jeans for this gss. blah).
AND after all that my point is that the only people who did anything of any practical constructive use in my entire family were the females. yes, you got that right (i finally figured out my constructive use-- i staunched the bleeding. counted right). is it any wonder that i am vehemently feminist, or that i need to be fiercely independent? i've always been trying to prove a point from as far back as i can remember-- that there is no such thing as the weaker sex, not where females are concerned. now i know why-- it's been indoctrinated in me, man. i think maybe what i'm trying to say is that while my dad is pretty damn decent as dads and husbands go, i cannot imagine or survive life married to someone like him. i don't know how my mum does it. hell, i can't even begin to imagine life seriously and long-term-ly attached to someone, forget marriage.
just as well. after seeing what a mess i'm making out of my dog's life i probably should take a cue and subscribe to darwin's theory of evolution. philip larkin could have been thinking of me (as the parent) when he wrote "this be the verse".
but seriously, if you ever have any pet problems or anything, i really think the james tan clinic is awesome-- and his consultation fees are cheaper than the others. now i have to put myself on flywatch and sit around swatting opportunist flies. bleh.