She’s A Happy Drunk


Karmann’s eyelid resection went about as well as the removal of a chunk of eyelid can ever go for a critter with a very vague notion of “but this will make you feel better in [abstract futuretime]” She’s an ounce or two lighter, but no worse for the wear and so far? NO AWFUL POOPING COMPLICATIONS.

When we picked her up she was expectedly dopey–weaving and tripping her way over to us with no real evidence of recollection. But when I took her leash to drunkenly waddle her out of the office she turned back toward the tech (her most favorite tech) and refused to come with us until she’d given the woman a sufficiently affectionate tongue bath.

Since she had zero concept of who she was, what words meant, or how to comport herself, she refused to lie down and instead spent the entire 40 minute drive home standing with her chin on my shoulder, lavishing me with strands of post-dental cleaning semi-hard waxy drool.

She got many nose kisses, because loooooooooove.

I am happy to have her back; she is happy to not require an e-collar, and is apparently indifferent to her bilateral Ugg boots.

Yay for puppies.


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