Holidays were the best. This Memorial Day weekend was splendidly quiet. We had dinner with a couple of good friends and also traveled a couple of hours to Toronto to pick up wedding invitations. The rest of the weekend was spent lying around. I think I slept most of Monday. This was unlike last year where the holiday weekend was sort of uncanny.
Beejing had been running around the yard again. Like a spoiled pup, he dodged left and right, basting in the sun, throwing out a bark, then darting off behind the trees as to start on an adventure hunt. He was only a few months old. Old enough to be curious of his surroundings and sometimes getting himself into trouble only to return to us whimpering and in need of attention.
We must have chased him around the yard for about ten minutes before we were able to finally grab him and toss him in the already packed car. We were already late to leave to NYC for the weekend.
Elizabeth opted to drive for I was a little dazed after coming off of work for the day. I entered in the passenger side, almost sitting on Beejing lying in the seat. This was strange for he often sees one of us about to sit, and scatters to the back seat. He was startled, let out a yelp, and jumped up as he felt me nearing him. Reaching out for him, I noticed that his left eye was covered more than usual. I tried to brush his fur back with my hand, but something underneath had matted it, developing a thick eye patch. He laid there uncomfortably brushing his eye with his paw and silently whining to himself.
This had happened once before. He runs into weeds, and sometimes burdocks get caught in his fur. After a while, it tangles up and the area gets matted. The last time, we had to bring him to the vet for an emergency visit where they held him down and trimmed off the fur for a mere seventy-five dollars.
We had no time to waste. Elizabeth suggested that I return into the house and retrieve a pair of scissors. We would wait until he calmed down, then we could leash our attack and free the matted eye patch. The scary aspect is that we had to be precise in our timing and actions, for it lay over his eye, a very sensitive area and susceptible to dangerously sharp objects. Being quite the hyper puppy at times, this was going to require a miracle.
A half-hour had passed, we had been traveling for a bit, I was awaken by shutters from Elizabeth. Over there, she called out, Look over there. She pointed to a State Trooper vehicle parked in the median facing us. I looked over to the speedometer, which read 80-this was not good for the speed limit was 65.
Slow down, I groggily stated, Slow down. Slow down.
For some reason, this did not make sense to her, for her foot was frozen on the gas pedal. The Officer began flashing his lights at us. We steadily raced forward in a panic at 80. He stuck his left arm out the window flapping up and down like a chicken noting for us to slow down. We blasted by him doing 80.
You think he saw us?, Elizabeth asked in a panic.
Geez, I can't believe you just…, I turned and looked behind us, he was racing upwards toward us, and of course, the cop-lights all started twirling.
The rest was routine.
A few hours later, we found ourselves arriving at a Service Station. It was dark out. Elizabeth and I had traded places soon after the police incident. She was slightly shaken, but managed to fall asleep after a short while. We looked at Beejing. He was still asleep. He did not do very well on these trips-probably due to the level of inactivity, allowing boredom to set in.
I nod to Elizabeth. She reaches for the scissors in the glove compartment. I reach over to the back seat and retrieve one sleepy puppy, who without any resistance, let out a sigh, went limp and allowed me carry him into the front seat as his head nodded off to the side.
I petted him gently as he lay in my lap, but he knew something was happening, for I picked him up again cocking his head up securely facing Elizabeth. She slowly approached his face with the scissors, and Beejing woke up abruptly, yelping, barking, twisting, and turning. This was not going to work. We tried again and again, and came up with no results. He grew increasingly fidgety and we grew increasingly impatient.
Elizabeth thought about how doctors would do it. Knock the dog out. Do the dirty deed. Then, when he comes around again, all is done. This was a good idea. Elizabeth reached in the back, into one of her bags, and retrieved a small box from her medicine stash. The box was pink and read Benadryl, an allergy medication-also noted to cause marked drowsiness. Elizabeth and I looked at each other and gave each other the proverbial approval nod most often seen in one of the latest action flicks.
We buried it in a doggie treat and Beejing ate it up as though it were steak.
We waited as we drove onward. A half-hour had passed. Beejing slept in the back as usual. We tested his consciousness level by calling his name, and each time, he awoke. There were a couple of times, where he seemed to stay asleep, but when we pulled over to perform our operation, he snapped awake again. An hour had passed, and there was still no effect-nothing.
So, we fed him another tablet.
A few hours had passed and still nothing; no effect. We arrived in NYC, and the most awake being in the car was Beejing. He stood up readily snapping his head back and forth as his eyes caught glimpses of all the city lights. He hopped from window to window, barking at the passersby.
The next day, we brought him to a vet in Brooklyn. They snipped off the eye patch with clippers in three seconds and charged us five dollars.
Lessons of the day-One, do not speed. Two, dogs are immune to Benadryl.
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