Sunday 04 Dec 2016

Getting Fixed
Jennifer Flaten

I’m hiding in the closet, frantically dialing the vet’s office. Now, you have to understand hiding in the closet to make a phone call isn’t that unusual in my house.

The kids view the phone as their mortal enemy. If I am using it then I am not paying attention to them, which simply won’t do. I don’t care if they are outside playing, if I do so much as pick up the phone to dial the weather a kid will race inside and start talking to me.

Sometimes it is an important bit of tattling that must be delivered right then. Other times it is exciting bits of news like that it is sunny outside. 

Even if I shake my head and do the universal, ‘I am on the phone,’ gesture, you know grimacing and pointing to the phone, the kid still keeps talking, in fact, it only makes them talk louder. Even if I say, “I am on the phone” the kid keeps talking. Anyone who frequently calls this house understands they will get a dual conversation, one that they called to have with me and one they get to listen to me have with whatever kid is on phone patrol that day.

Today, I desperately need to talk to the vet about the puppy. Nothing is wrong with the puppy; in fact, the puppy is in extremely high spirits. We took her in to be “fixed” because we are responsible pet owners and I don’t want to raise a batch of puppies.

Yep, that is a big lie. I would happily raise a batch of puppies. This is why we got the dog fixed.

Therein lies the problem, everyone, but the puppy, knows she recently underwent surgery. She on the other hand thinks she took a nice ride in the car, visited with some fun people and fell asleep for a while. She has no idea that according to the vet, the she needs to be on what amounts to canine bed rest for the next fourteen days.

This is simply not possible, the only time this dog isn’t moving is when she is asleep. Otherwise, she is a furry little blur that zips around the house chewing anything that doesn’t move; thank god, the kids move around a lot.

I really thought we could keep her “quiet”, which just confirms I am delusional. She was quiet for about a day after surgery, mostly due to the protective cone around her head. Once she mastered navigating with a giant piece of flexible plastic around her head, she was back to full menace mode.

It is now day three and the dog is definitely not onboard with the whole keeping quiet, the vet mentioned something about tranquilizers and while I am not sure, if he meant for the dog or me, I am giving him a call.

I need something, I work from home, you call it fool around on the Internet and I call it work, and the dog is preventing me from working. For the record, I don’t recommend saying that to your boss as an excuse for not completing an assignment. Too bad that I couldn’t hear a word the vet said because a kid had discovered my hiding place.

Jennifer Flaten lives where the local delicacy is fried cheese, Wisconsin. She writes about family life, its amusing or not so amusing moments. "At least it's not another article on global warming," she says. Jennifer bakes a mean banana bread and admits an unusual attraction to balloon animals and cup cakes. Busy preparing for the zombie apocalypse, she stills finds time to write "As I See It," her witty, too often true column. "My urge to write," says Jennifer, "is driven by my love of cupcakes, with sprinkles on top. Who wouldn't write for cupcakes, with sprinkles," she wonders.

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