Adios, Carl!
(Consider this a warning – things are about to get nasty up in here!)
Yesterday morning Sid tipped his giant face-wart Carl up towards me, looked me in the eye, and yelled, “Enough is enough!”
Lucky for Sid, I whole-heartedly agreed. After two months of rapid growth, we decided that Carl was anglin’ to take over Sid’s face and HE NEEDED TO BE STOPPED. I mean, seriously, it was getting to the point where Sid was accidentally chomping on Carl whenever he’d yawn. Also, we’ve been on a bit of an X-Files binge here at the Pug Slope Headquarters, and I was starting to have nightmares in which Carl sprouted legs and became a sentient being of extra-terrestrial origins intent on wreaking havoc in our lives.
THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE
The amazing Dr. Quim at Prospect Park Animal Clinic was able to fit us in for a wart excision later that afternoon. Now, as you know, Sid is a frequent visitor to the vet. Unfortunately, that means that Sid now knows that the vet’s office is not a fun place to be.
He stared at that door for our entire time in the waiting room, as though if he were to look away, for even a second, he’d miss his one opportunity to escape.
Once we got into the exam room, Sid literally pulled out all the punches – pushing, pulling, jerking, and flailing about while the vet and his assistant tried to get a good look at Carl. Sid was so wound up that we decided that the only way to proceed was to give him a mild sedative to calm him down.
So Sid was given the sedative, and we were left alone in the exam room while we waited for it to kick in.
Sid spent the next 15 minutes pacing rapidly in a tight figure-eight formation around my chair.
The assistant eventually came back in to check on us, and upon seeing Sid’s continued hyperactivity, she turned the lights down in the room and pressed a button on a small stereo in the corner.
The opening notes of Brahm’s Lullaby began playing. Then, without warning, the voice of Celine Dion wafted about the room.
Sid continued to pace frantically, while I pondered the life decisions that led to me to be in a dark room with a wart-faced, hyperactive pug, listening to Celine Dione sing lullabies. Whatever decisions they were, they were obviously the right ones.
By the end of the song, I found myself pacing around the room, but Sid was in my arms, being bounced like a baby, his eyes set in an unfocused gaze, his tongue hanging from his mouth, Timothy-Buttons-style.
It was time.
Dr. Quim was masterful with his surgical tweezers and scissors. With a quick pop, Carl was off of Sid’s face, severed from his life-source before he could wreak havoc on humanity.
Why, yes, I did ask if I could take a photo of Carl while the vet was busy cauterizing Sid’s wound. YOU DON’T PASS UP AN OPPORTUNITY LIKE THIS. Ask Brian about my wisdom teeth sometime…
With his wound cauterized, Sid was ready to head home! Dr. Quim said the sedative would take a while to wear off, but Sid did a great job walking home. He seemed a little out of it, but he walked the whole six blocks like it was no big deal.
Until we got to the stoop. I think that’s when the sedatives really kicked in.
I carried him up all of the stairs and put him down as soon as we got inside our apartment. Rather than jumping into his normal post-walk routine of spinning in circles while yelping for treats and pawing frantically at the food bin that we keep near the door, he just stood there, swaying, until he ended up leaning pathetically against the bin. He began snoring.
I carried the poor guy to the couch. I was hoping he’d just go to bed, but he seemed pretty determined to stay awake. Thank the blog gods that my cell phone was right in my back pocket, because as soon as I set him on the couch, this happened:
OMG SID YOU’RE BREAKIN’ MY HEART!!!!!
That position that he flopped into? He stayed that way for a good two hours.
Eventually I moved him to his bed. At one point, he stood up like he had a plan, took one step, and then immediately gave up:
That became his 8pm-9pm napping position.
From there, he again stood up like he had a plan, walked to the middle of the room, and…
I’ve got four more minutes of that, if you want to see it sometime.
At that point, I officially cancelled all of my evening plans so I could keep an eye on him. I was worried he’d decide he was thirsty, walk over to his water bowl, and then zonk out again, and I’d come home after a fun night out to find him face down in an inch and a half of water. The irrational fears concocted by my imagination stop me from doing a lot of things.
That didn’t even come close to happening, of course, and the sedative finally began to wear off around midnight, just when it was time for the rest of the world to go to sleep. I left a light on so Sid could finally admire his Carl-free face.
Ta-da!!!!
