Yesterday my children held me under a veil of suspicion the entire day. Although we now have a Berkeley, our own dog, the situation with Fred, the lost dog we returned, is still fresh in their mind.
So yesterday morning when I took the dog to the vet to have him neutered, I received a barrage of questions and accusatory statements.
What is neutered, Mom?
Where is Berkeley?
When is Berkeley coming home?
Wait! What’s a neuter?
After answering, and re-answering, their questions, catching some attitude and suspicious glances, I was finally able to call the vet’s office and see how he did that morning. I even kept the phone on speaker so the kids could hear that Berkeley was doing fine.
That, of course, didn’t stop Jake from telling Joey later, “Mom took the dog to the vet and they cut off his balls. I don’t know why they would do that and I’m not even gonna ask!”
Finally it was time to get the dog. We explained he would be groggy, not feeling well, and needed rest to make him better. That meant they needed to give him a break and stay settled and quiet too.
Easier said than done.
The kids ran around like maniacs and finally I explained to Jake, the wildest and who was clearly is feeling better after his croup last Tuesday, that Berkeley was feeling sick. I asked Jake to remember how sick he was and how he wouldn’t have wanted Berkeley jumping or barking loudly when he was so ill. My husband added how after we left in the ambulance last week Berkeley was whining and crying, sniffing all around Jake’s room looking for him; he was worried about him. We added that while Jake was recovering Berkeley sat quietly next to him.
Just before bed I caught Jake and Joey whispering to Berkeley. Jake told him he would be quiet until he felt better. Joey spoke softly and said, “It’s okay buddy-boy. Maybe your balls will grow back.”
This morning Berkeley was up and moving around and trying to bite his stitches. I tried some of your suggestions, like having him wear a onesie (thanks, Monica!) which worked for a while and then he started biting at that. Poor Berkeley was back in his cone of shame.
I’ve been taking it off when I can be around him, but early this morning, trying to get everyone fed and off to school, he needed to be in it. After cleaning up the dishes, I came in to discover Jake sitting with Berkeley.
“I just feel bad for him, Mom. I told him we can be twins.”
So thanks, Berkeley, for a great lesson in empathy.
p.s. I’m sure he’s gonna kill me for posting this one when he’s a teenager. Don’t ya think?
While you’re here, give poor ball-less Berkeley some love and click on the link below to cast an automatic vote for me on Top Mommy Blogs! Just one click is all it takes!