It’s been kind of a rough few weeks. First, in wondering if the allergy sea rum injections were really helping me, Mommy contacted the allergist’s office. Let me tell you about them. They had an office here in town that they visited once every two weeks, which was quite enough. Then the vet who owned the office and used it the rest of the time decided the space needed remodeling, so the allergist couldn’t work there any more. Then the pandemic hit and, well, let’s not go into that. So Mom would have to drive a couple of hours north or west to get me to see the allergy dogtor. She said that was ok, but wanted to talk to the dogtor first. A few months ago she got into an e-mail war with someone who was supposed to be the dogtor, but Mommy believes it was an office worker who posed as the dogtor, ’cause no professional would have been so inaccurate, repetitive, and smart-alecky as this person was in their responses. This time she decided to call and keep calling until someone answered or returned her messages, but even a bull dog has their limit of how many times they can call and leave a message with no response. She finally used their website to send a message saying she wanted to talk with my dogtor about how I was doing, as I still itch – especially in the high allergy season – and if she should stop the shots and try something else. Actually, I didn’t mind the shots. I always got two big, high value treats – one before and one after the shot. Mom finally got a reply in the form of a text. They “fired” us! They said they couldn’t help me anymore and there were several dermatologists in our area! Seriously? Can a dogtor actually fire his patient?
Mommy’s pretty sure the dogtor never actually saw her message, and it was the evil staff person again. But what can you do when you can’t get past the rottweiller at the gate? I guess you just turn around and go somewhere else.
In the meantime, I’ve chewed the top of my front leg raw. Now I have to wear a shirt with sleeves that Mommy made me. I still try to get under there to lick the yummy coconut oil she puts on it!
If that isn’t enough, I’ve started hopping on my back right leg when we go for walks. Trot trot trot hop, trot trot trot hop. I get a pretty good rhythm going with it. So I haven’t been allowed to go on walkies with Mommy and Lucy lately. When they get ready to go, I get my treat puzzle, like I’m supposed to ignore I’m getting left behind just because there are yummy dried beef heart pieces in the…wait, don’t you want to go for a walk, Lucy? Mommy’s been looking for a doggie chiropractor but the two who helped Angel Freda and Angel Lexi have retired. I hate to admit it, but resting my leg really has helped.
But wait! There’s more! Last time I was at Dr. Karen’s for my DNA HW test, she said I had yeast around my girl parts, so Mommy took care of it with coconut oil and some essential oils. Now Mommy thinks I might be a yeastie beastie, and that might be why I’m still itchy. She has stopped feeding me my probiotic sauerkraut at night and kefir for lunch. Grrr. She said fermented stuff feeds the yeast. She’s also washing me in a natural tea tree and peppermint essential oil shampoo from 4Legger.
Shania: Hi Miss Xena. I’m allowed out when you’re in the tub ’cause I’m “safe” then. I came to visit you while you soak in your anti-yeasty shampoo.
We don’t know where yet, but there are rumors that there is a holistic vet downtown. I may be paying him (or her) a visit.
I am Xena Schnauzer Warrior Princess, aka Grruvah. (I answer to my new Hebrew name now!)