[Dailydrool] Our Elsinore and young Charlie suffer at the vet's

[Elizabeth Lindsey]

Our Elsinore and young Charlie went to the vet's today. As I  
suspected, Elsinore's lumps are nothing. In fact, one of them's  
actually supposed to be there because it's a rear lymph node. So in  
the event I hadn't been feeling silly and concerned over nothing, I  
was able to be both today. The vet was very nice about it and agreed  
with me that the lumps I don't have checked will be the ones that  
turn out to be bad, so it's good to have them all checked, even if  
they turn out to be just lymph nodes. Elsinore did pretty well with  
the vet sitting on the floor next to her and feeling her chest and  
rear end for a long time. She didn't seem to look at it as being a  
massage, but she didn't take it as an assault on her person either,  
thank goodness, because she doesn't put up with those. The vet said  
her rear lymph nodes do seem a bit large, but he's not worried  
because both are exactly the same shape and size, so she probably was  
just given the queen-sized pair back there.

Young Charlie remains a bit of a puzzle. On Monday, Ken and I were  
looking at him and agreeing that he just doesn't have his sparkle.  
His appetite may be back, but his joie de vivre isn't. Five minutes  
after I called the vet on Tuesday to make today's appointment,  
Charlie brought me a toy to play with and then wanted me to chase  
him. What to believe? But I kept the appointment because, well, we  
still don't have Charlie's toys scattered all over the house, he  
hasn't done anything naughty in over a week, and he still seems not  
quite right. Maybe he's decided to mature, but that just doesn't seem  
like him. Merry little mischief makers don't suddenly grow up and  
start flying straight and sober.

The vet said his lymph nodes (lymph nodes, you know--they feel like  
lumps that make you worry about cancer, those things) were fine and  
so's his abdomen, gum color, mouth, etc., etc. So he took Charlie out  
of the exam room and into the back to get a urine sample and blood.  
Elsinore and I sat in the exam room and waited for him. I worked a  
crossword puzzle while Elsinore finished checking the floor. After  
about five minutes we suddenly heard Charlie yodeling and then  
screeching. Elsinore froze in place and stared at the door Charlie  
had been taken through. As the shrieking went on, she turned and  
looked at me as if she were ordering me to do something about it  
already. I had to tell her it was okay, even though we both knew it  
wasn't (at least not from Charlie's perspective). She relaxed  
somewhat after that but remained on alert and near the door.

When the vet finally brought Charlie back in, Charlie put as much  
distance between himself and the vet as he could, then laid down on  
the floor and watched him reproachfully. The vet informed me that  
young Charlie "had thrown quite a temper tantrum back there."  
Apparently it had taken three people to hold him down to get the  
blood, and it had taken many tries because every time they thought  
they might get a stick, Charlie had jerked to get himself free.

I didn't want to say anything to the vet, someone who routinely  
sticks very sharp things into animals, but that wasn't a temper  
tantrum. That was a frightened basset trying to get away from  
something he knew was going to hurt. Young Charlie was behaving in a  
very understandable way, and I'll bet there are some people out there  
who wish they could behave the same way when faced with a syringe  
like that. I certainly would love to indulge in a "temper tantrum"  
when I have to have blood drawn, because I hate the way it feels so  
much. I told Charlie later that I felt he'd shown a lot of courage  
and had behaved well when those extreme circumstances are taken into  
consideration. After all, he'd only struggled to get away; he hadn't  
bitten anyone. If I'd been in his place, I'd have been snapping at  
everyone I could lay teeth on.

The vet's going to test for all the usual things, including Lyme  
disease, I believe. He's also sending some to Michigan State  
University to check Charlie's thyroid levels. I asked if we could  
have his thyroid levels tested, remembering our late Jane Basset  
developing an underactive thyroid when she was a little older than  
Charlie. Of course, Charlie has only the decreased energy level, not  
the rough coat or mood changes or any of the other markers. But the  
vet said that plenty of dogs manifest only one of the markers. He  
said that I could have the thyroid tested locally, but he feels MSU,  
even though it costs more ($125 ack!), has the most accurate  
readings. Even more accurate than Purdue's vet school, which I think  
the world of because it saved our Jane's life three times? Yes, even  
more accurate than Purdue's. But he assured me that Purdue excels  
over the other vet schools in other areas. Okay. I'll let MSU do the  
testing then.

We'll hear back about the locally tested bloodwork early next week  
and about the thyroid sometime after the 14th. In the meantime, we'll  
be looking for signs of Charlie's sparkle returning again, at least  
long enough to play with a toy for a few minutes or do something  
naughty. When he got home, he took to his bed and hasn't been up  
since. He must have fought really, really hard at the vet's. Poor,  
brave little lad. He and Elsinore thank everyone for the drool and  
kind thoughts. I'll be sure to share the results when they're all back.

Elizabeth