Milo At the Vet

We have a very scary vet. Really. Everyone is scared of her. The first time we brought Milo to her, she fixed us with a baleful stare:

- Why is he muzzled?

- He has such badly infected paws. Why did you not bring him earlier?

- He has such badly infected paws. Why does he not have a cone on?

She asks these questions as a series of rhetorical questions. She does not expect an answer even as all of us nervously try to explain that he does have a cone but it was hard to keep it on in the car... that we did spend about $1000 at Mt. Pleasant before finding her... that if he is not muzzled, he will howl so loud in the car, that other cars will make way for us, because they think we are driving an ambulance.

So, the next time we brought Milo for a visit, we did not muzzle him. He howled so loud in the consultation room that the vet coldly declared, "I can't talk over that noise." But... but... but... she said NOT to muzzle him! We obeyed!

She is a very popular vet, though. Even with an appointment, we end up waiting 2 hrs each time. There is no queue number system so you can't register and then come back later. You actually have to sit there and wait.

This vet has a long line of small-sized patients. Milo is huge compared to all the tiny dogs, cats, parakeets, parrots, budgerigars, hamsters, and rabbits that she sees. Milo is also the worst behaved. Someone came in with a cat carrier, and set it down in front of Milo. The cat peered out and Milo peered in. Then, we had to grab Milo as he lunged. Then, a mysterious box of lego came in. No one knew what was inside.When it turned out to be a rabbit, we again had to grab hold of our dog.

When a butterfly fluttered past, we felt like we were on a dog pulled sled.

Then, Milo felt the urge to poop. So, he did his business in the HDB void deck corridor under the disapproving eyes of all the other angelic small patients and their relatives. We then had to do the walk of shame, as we pretended nothing was wrong, when picking up the long line of droppings from right under the disapproving eyes of all the other angelic small patients and their relatives. 

Meanwhile, Milo let out a never ending series of whines and howls, that sounded like Pavarotti practising with a sore throat. Milo's lack of appeal cuts across all races. The Chinese, Indian and Malay relatives of all the other well-behaved patients shot us dirty looks.

In the end, The Son had to apply deep pressure therapy on Milo. This required The Son to sprawl ON Milo ON the floor, with his legs spread wide and holes in his t-shirt. Suddenly, I was also ashamed of my son. He looked like some uneducated coolie come out the pages of a history book. All you need to do is to add an opium pipe to the picture, and history would have come alive right in front of you.

It did not help that it was still within the Circuit Breaker period. So, there was no way to hang out at a cafe or a kopi tiam. The waiting room at the vet can only fit 2 people. So, people hang around at the HDB void deck. At one point, The Son and The Daughter had to sit on the kerbside with their legs in the drain, whilst waiting.