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The Worst Day of My Life

February 05, 2020 3 min read

The Worst Day of My Life

The Worst Day of My Life

I’m in shock. A piece of me has been stolen. I’m not sure I know how to start talking about it. It’s just devastating.

People always had a tough time working out my gender because of all the fabulous outfits my mum dressed me in, but now I’m not sure I know anymore either. 

But I’m getting ahead of myself. The day started just like any other. Better in fact, because I’d just celebrated my six month birthday! Can you believe that? I got the most wonderful present, I assumed because I’m so awesome — fresh, handmade Australian doggy treats. Delicious!

But that was the start of the crash. Turns out Mummy didn’t get them for me. They were leftover from a Gift With Purchase promotion she ran with her business. Hoomans could get free dog treats with the purchase of a bow tie harness or other handmade dog accessories.

She must have been too busy to get me a gift, so she unloaded her leftovers on me. I mean, I ate them. With gusto. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t disappointed.

Things got worse from there. The Boss (Mummy), Daddy, and I went for a drive, and my tail was wagging like crazy until I realized where we were going.

The vet!

They always poke me and prod me, sticking things I don’t like in places they don’t belong. Nothing is sacred there, not your mouth, and not your nose. And no, I don’t want that in my bum, thank you very much! 

But at least my family stays with me and tries to comfort me through my humiliations. But this time, they dropped me off and left! The vet workers seemed like they were trying to make me feel better, laying on the compliments thick. They went on about how handsome I looked in my matching bow tie collar and leash, but I knew they were trying to distract me from something. I just didn’t know what.

They took me in the back, plopped me on a table, and then gave me a shot. Next thing I know I wake up in a cage, groggy, in pain, and missing my dog biscuits! How could such a thing happen!

To add insult to injury, they attached an absurdly large, plastic cone around my neck. Now I’ve come to like all of the handmade dog accessories the Boss dresses me in, but this thing was horrible! I couldn’t see where I was going and kept walking into things. How anyone could think it was fashionable is beyond me.

Eventually, my hoomans picked me up and brought me home. I couldn’t look at them...partially because of the ridiculous cone, but also because of what they’d let the vet do to me. I didn’t know if I could ever forgive them.

UPDATE: It turns out I could! It’s been about a week and a half, and I’m all healed up! It’s weird. I don’t even miss my boys anymore. I’m beginning to realize that puppies don’t have the greatest memories. Thank goodness!

It also helped to learn that Daddy knows a thing or two about getting snipped as well, so I’m not alone. Apparently, there’s no chance I’ll ever have another hooman sibling. Hooman doctors made sure of that!

Anyway, I’m back to my happy, yappy self, and I’ve put this terrible episode behind me. I never want to think about it again. I can guarantee you this is the last time I’ll read this journal entry!

Let this be a lesson to you all. Things can change in a moment, so appreciate your biscuits while you’ve got ‘em, dear readers!

Marley