Now if you've ever grown up in a small country town you will know that all the good ones get snapped up quickly. I'm not joking when I say literally every single person I went to school with is now married with children.
So a hot new single vet in town is basically a unicorn.
The morning of our vet visit, I washed and blow-dried my hair, put on a cute, feminine floral dress (could I be more wife material!) and yes I even gave Ziggy the hound a quick wash and blow-dry. We were spruced up in our weekend finest and ready for a trip into town.
After making charming small talk with fellow attendees in the waiting room, the dashing vet comes out and invites Ziggy and I into his consultation room. He was dressed in a gorgeous light blue linen shirt that really brought out his sparkly eyes and wide-set shoulders. He had a very sensible haircut which I decided would eventually grow out. Three ticks and a small cross. Fine, let the games begin …
I flutter my eyelashes and schmooze on in. Now I would love to say that this is when we fell in love at first sight, but what happened next is truly mortifying.
We started off with some good banter and he suggested that Ziggy should also have his nails clipped. Sure, why not.
Ziggy was an absolute trooper during the injections, and there is something so ridiculously attractive about a man who cares for animals. The way he held my minuscule dog in his big muscular arms really got the heart pounding. He charmed the pants off both of us (sadly only metaphorically).
It was time for a nail trim. I was propped in a seat in the corner trying to look dainty and make small talk asking him how he was enjoying his time in the town when Ziggy clocked the dreaded clippers. He's never been a fan of this procedure, but the vet was so good with him during his injection, I thought this would be a walk in the park.
Now I don't know if you've ever seen a dog leave his own body and allow the devil to take over, but it's not pretty. As soon as the handsome vet came within an inch of his tootsies, the teeth were out, the growl was strong, and before long the sharp high-pitched barks began.
One little snip, and the vet clocked a massive bite to his hand. Like, it drew blood. Second snip, and Ziggy has gone completely feral and I swear everyone in the waiting room thought the vet was conducting an exorcism.
The vet could no longer hold Ziggy still, so I took hold of this possessed demon and we tried to keep him calm while Ziggy tried to bite himself out of this frightful situation.
By the third snip he required a muzzle because we were covered in scratches and bites.
While we paused to catch our breath and composure, Ziggy, the chihuahua-demon-dog, saw his opportunity to break free and launched himself into the air like an eagle off the high bench, coming to a giant crash on the floor where he then took off, ran straight into a cupboard, knocked himself out and let go of his bowels like a combusted balloon everywhere.
The floor was covered in poo. Ziggy was covered in poo and as I slowly looked at the vet who had bent down to scoop up Ziggy, it would appear that he too was, indeed, covered in poo. His beautiful linen shirt ruined!
Handsome vet took that opportunity to quickly clip Ziggy's feet, and assessed for damage. Thankfully he was completely fine and Ziggy came around in no time.
By the time the consultation was finished we were a little war-torn and shaken. Ziggy on the other hand, was back to his jolly good self. Tail wagging and ready for his next adventure.
I left covered in bites, scratches and dog faeces. I couldn't even look at the vet as we left in shame. Nor the horrified faces in the waiting room.
However, upon reflection, I shan't be deterred. Everyone loves a challenge, and I'm sure he'll get a real kick out of the Hazmat suit I wear to next year's injections.
Stay strong singletons. It's brutal out there.
