Will sit, or pretty much whatever else it is you want him to do, for treats.
Although we are not sure how old he is...exactly...the vet at the animal shelter, where we adopted our Doofus-Dawg in 2004, figured him to be about a year old, at the time. Either way, he's well past earning his senior citizen's badge...in dog years.
The perks of his reaching retirement age for a mostly lab are many, but more importantly: we don't chase him off of the couch. In fact, I've grown accustomed to simply covering the furniture with a couple of blankets or twenty.
The other day, he got caught up in one of those blankets when attempting to jump off of the couch and hurt his foot, but it's not unusual for him to get a "zinger" because of his arthritis, so I gave him half of a baby aspirin to help ease the ouch.
Yesterday, he started limping. This morning, he couldn't walk at all.
My husband, Garth (not his real name) took the day off to help me get Doofus to the vet, figuring that my borked-up back would keep me from being able to lift him in and out of the car and my son is also home sick since Monday, because OF COURSE!
Aaaaaand, our middle girl is still in apprenticeship, so I may or may not need an extra driver to pick her up, as well.
But NOT because Doofus does not like going to the vet. On the contrary, he LOVES going to the vet, because they give him treats.
"Sit down, that's a good boy!"
TREAT!
"Up on the scale, that's a good boy!"
TREAT!
"Let's take a look at what's going on, that's a good boy!"
I'm pretty sure that, to Doofus-dawg, the treats are neverending at the vet and it's like all he has to do is sit, to be treated to a treat, but NOT today.
The poor dog was panting with exertion, working it SO HARD trying to look all cute and everything, but still...no treat...because Doofus' x-rays showed a small fracture in his foot and the vet said she may need to sedate the old guy in order to get the splint on correctly.
It could take a couple of hours.
It was SO HARD to leave Doofus-dawg behind, but we knew that he is in good hands and, well, he didn't seem to mind hanging out with the vet for a few more hours, because there may or may not be treats involved.
Long story, short: he's going to be hobbling around for a couple of weeks and, hopefully, we'll get back some better news on some other stuff the vet wants to rule out
Having a sick kid home from school stinks, but taking care of a sick pet is a whole different level of cruddy and, well, it makes my heart squish.
Either way...fear not, Doofus-dawg...mommy's got a super-special surprise for you and it may or may not involve bacon...because BACON!
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