Chance-Alize (that's her stripper name) Goes to the Vet

Yesterday morning I dropped Chance off at the veterinarian to get spayed. My mom sent me an email in the afternoon and like usual she put the entire message in the subject.

What would you think?...Of course I freaked and called the vet 5 times until someone picked up. She's fine. But apparently there's some new non-invasive procedure that allows dogs to be neutered or whatever without slicing. Having no medical history on Chance and because she appeared to have been in heat, Dr. Pruden cut into her and couldn't find her lady parts. Yeah, you read that correctly. She did however find spleen damage (not serious)...another indicator that Chance had had this procedure preformed.

Anyway, she tells me all of this...gives me antibiotics for Chance (2x a day) and brings her out. All I can say is:

This poor dog.

Not only did she go through an unnecessary surgery, the bottom half of her is entirely shaved off. But worst of all she has one of those plastic cones surrounding her head and she has to wear it for 14 days. How messed up is that? She already throws her body around and runs into things but now its awful.

I love her and will be the first to admit that she's not the brightest crayon in the box...but man, this is just sad. I haven't got a chance to take a picture of her but just so you get the idea.

NOT CHANCE

Comments

"On Losing" or "On Dating Down" or "On 'Jesus He is Not As Attractive As Her'"

I people watch. I am friends with people watchers. We watch people together. And sometimes we play games. In parks we see if people actually match their dogs. At cafes we look at couples and decide who is the loser and who is the winner. I'll define: The Loser: The person who is, for all shallow purposes, more attractive, probably smarter, and/or cooler. Also the one who has more friends. The Winner: The inferior of the pair who has somehow been blessed with money or a good heart or the psychotic break/blindness of their partner. You play this game long enough and you start to notice a trend. Girls lose so often and they lose bad. It gets so much more tragic when you move beyond the game. You begin to understand that this silly game is emblematic of life. You think of your friends who cry over losers (in this game winners). I mean guys who were, are, and will be, losers in life. And then with the slow, horrifying suspense of a nouvelle vague film you t...

Cherry Blossom Brooklyn

So yesterday I went to the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens. For all of you who don't know because I haven't told you yet. I know a lot about the area from a project I did on the architecture of the Brooklyn Museum. Summation: Until 1894 Brooklyn or (Breukelen, as it was originally name by the dutch) was its own city. The third largest. Before it joined with the other boroughs BK was in a race against Manhattan to prove its elitism. This lead to the adoption of certain projects to beautify Brooklyn and a large area was reserved for public works. For a while it was basically a crude park. But now that area consist of The Brooklyn Museum, The Brooklyn Botanical Gardens, The Brooklyn Public Library, and Prospect Park. (just cause I love it...here's the museum) Anyway, back to the gardens. The cherry blossoms are out early this year which is heavenly. Although it kind of sucks when they don't come out just in time for the festival. T...

What Seems Like A Good Idea At 5AM May Not Actually Be A Good Idea

What happens when you mix missed concerts, Pour House rejections, and AN's birthday? This was taken in Port Authority at 5:30 AM Saturday morning. Here is us eating breakfast. We'd been out all night but decided that the only thing that could make the night better was Atlantic City. To make a long story less long and way more amusing. We had open containers, in public. Which I totally thought was not that big of a deal because its port authority and port authority is like a third world country whose dictator has just been shanked. Plus, one would think that the NY equivalent of a mall cop would worry more about the pimps picking up runaways than the harmless 20 something, minding there own business, eating breakfast, who just so happen to be supremely drunk and have an open beer under their chair. Anyway, I may have mistakenly left one underneath the bench we were sitting on when we got up to check what time the bus was coming. We thought ...

Are We There Yet?

Search This Blog