Brave Boy?

So, today we had our annual trip to the vet. Poor Jetty didn't see it coming. We went for a lovely walk first, and he should have been suspicious when we took a totally new route, but he was too distracted by the wonderful smells. He was fairly cool when we arrived, accepting a cookie and hopping on the scale (55 pounds! With a 38 pound Dad and 45 pound Mother, that certainly wasn't in the puppy brochure...).

The German Sheppard in the waiting room was slightly less cool. He crawled right up into his owner's lap. I smiled and made a comment about how all of them hate the vet. She explained that the vet wasn't the problem - it was Jet. Her dog is terrified of black dogs. Hmm, I had to point out to her that her dog is black - does that mean he's scared of himself? Poor fella.

So once the gate to the back part of the clinic was opened, all Jetty's cool deserted him. As we waited in the exam room he kept trying to crawl into my lap. See - the bad habits they pick up instantly, it's the good ones they can't seem to grasp. Once his vet arrived, it was game over - he dove straight under the chair and wouldn't come out. Poor boy, he must have known what he was in for —4 needles and a blood donation so they can do the heartworm test. At north of $325, both Jet and I hope it's the last we see of the vet for another year!