The Vet Is Not My Friend

As I have detailed before, I am not too fond of the vet. Lucky for me, I haven't had to go in several months, so nothing has been poked into me or pulled out of my butt recently.

I should have known that my luck wouldn't last forever.

On Wednesday, Sarah (the asshole) took me to get my shots and a check-up. This seemed pointless. After all, I'm a healthy young pup. What could possibly be wrong with me? Plus, some of the crap that goes on at the vet is completely pointless. Like, the vet had to draw blood for a heartworm test, even though Sarah makes me take these super gross heartworm pills once a month. If the heartworm pills work, why the hell do I need to have the blood test? For an animal that has found its way to the top of the food chain, humans can be real morons.

Only Sarah would see me acting so sad and still make me get my shots.

Of course, I did not willingly submit to this stupidity. Sarah had to pick all 62 pounds of me up and carry me into the exam room, because I wiggled out of my collar when she tried to drag me in there (seriously - who voluntarily goes into a room where you know someone is not only going to drain your blood, but stick a spoon up your butt to pull out poop?).

The least Sarah could do if I am going to be forced to go to the vet is schedule all of my shots at the same time. But no, Sarah can't do that. So, in May, I have to go back to the vet for a second set of shots. Thanks for nothing, asshole.