He gets oh so nervous at the Vet's office and tries to sit in my lap by crawling over from the neighboring seat. It is rather silly and embarrassing for all. The techs pretend to like him, but really, who likes butt mouth? Yes, it is that bad.
We get him on the scale and he is a whopping 120 lbs. I believe he is in competition with the Wiener Horses for the most weight gained in a month.
We wait for the doctor, who is new, as usual, and when he walks in and introduces himself, I think, "Wow, is Gus' breath so bad, this guy will think I'm a terrible owner!" The vet leans over to pet DogGus and talk to him and then I realize that I smell extreme garlic and rotting venison all at the same time. Oh dear Lord. It is so bad I think I might gag. The vet steps away, Thank God, and goes over his medical record and notes that Gus is fat. He needs to lose weight. All this time I considered him fluffy, but no, he is not. Okay, he is on a reduced rotting meat diet now.
He examines him and discovers a broken tooth. A gleam comes into his eye as he explains the various dental procedures we might try. Here are the suggestions:
1. Let's file it down and put a sealant on it.
2. Let's xray it and then pull it.
3. Let's xray it and then do a root canal.
4. Let's do a crown.
WTF? How about, let's do nothing? Geez, is he dying? Is he in pain? I know his breath stinks like yours, but you don't have pearly whites, either. Maybe he doesn't smell it. I politely point out that the hair around his lips is matted with decaying food and slobber, but he doesn't seem to think anything of it. Can a vet be any good if he can't smell rotting flesh?
I ask for an estimate to clean his teeth and decide that perhaps my regular dentist could do it cheaper. $568???? Again, WTF.
DogGus is at the Groomers today to have the stench removed. I think I will anonymously mail my dentists' card to the Vet.
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