Marlowe has been in disgrace for a few days now. He says he’s not sorry; he’d do it again under similar circumstances.
For a while now I’d been cleaning Marlowe’s right eye every day. It’s been a bit mucky and crusty. Cleaning Marlowe’s eye isn’t the easy job it sounds. First, one must dampen a clean rag with warm water, and then the fun begins. As soon as Marlowe sees the rag he takes off, but Marlowe is a good boy, and with lots of coaxing and cajoling he eventually, step by slow step, comes back and accepts his fate. When I say, “accepts his fate”, don’t for a minute think the battle is over. Marlowe will stand beside me, but with his head hanging as far down, without actually touching the ground, as he can manage. Now I have to pick up that huge head and begin the cleaning operation. Marlowe’s head must weigh a tonne, but the job eventually gets done.
I thought he must have ingrowing eyelashes that were causing the mucky eye, so I rang the vet to have his eye looked at. We saw the vet on Tuesday, the same day I had my two new ferrets, Atlas and Bram, castrated. Atlas and Bram were dropped off in the morning for their operations and when I picked them up in the afternoon, Marlowe had his vet appointment. Our veterinary surgery is undergoing major renovations at the moment. The entire surgery was pulled down as soon as the new operating section of the new surgery was finished. Clients then had the choice to sit outside under a large awning or wait in the waiting room of a demountable building until it was their turn to see a vet. Most of the consultations were actually done in the waiting room or under the awning, because there was only one small consulting room attached to the waiting room.
When I arrived with Marlowe, it was clear I wouldn’t get a choice. The outside area was populated with a large range of dogs, none of whom looked happy to see my giant puppy come walking down the path. Discretion begin the better part of valour, I chose to wait in the empty waiting room with Marlowe. He was wearing his tuxedo bib for the occasion, and was very pleased to be out and about. The dogs outside were very pleased this overdressed giant wasn’t settling amongst them.
As new clients came in to let the receptionist know they’d arrived Marlowe took the opportunity to make new friends. That day it seemed that most new patients arriving were small dogs or cats, none of whom wanted anything to do with Marlowe, despite his assuring the cats that he had a good friend at home who was a cat, and telling the little dogs he wasn’t sure what they were but he’d like to be friends anyway. The owners on the other hand all wanted to pat the big pup and some asked if they could take a photo or even asked to have their photo taken with him. I’m sure Marlowe began to feel like a rock star.
While we were waiting, Rob, a new vet at the practice who I had not met before, came in to chat with me. “I’ve been playing with the less bitey of your ferrets”, he began.
“That would be Atlas”, I replied because there’s no way Bram could ever be described as ‘less bitey’.
Rob then proceeded to ask a lot of questions about ferrets. From his questions, I’m pretty sure Atlas had won him over and Rob was now thinking about owning ferrets himself. I did all I could for ferret PR, assuring him that if a ferret was properly raised and socialised they made wonderful pets. I also mentioned that Bram was still a work in progress, but I was confident that he too would be a lot less bitey in the near future.
While Rob was talking to me, he was patting Marlowe and rubbing Marlowe’s ears (one of Marlowe’s very favourite way of being patted). Rob, looked down at Marlowe, and then said more to himself than to me, “I wonder who is treating him today? I’ll just go find out, because I’d love to treat him.” And with that Rob left the waiting room.
He returned a short time later, following Georgina, Marlowe’s vet for the day. While Georgina examined Marlowe and discussed the problem of ingrowing eyelashes with me, Rob continued to pat Marlowe and tell him he was a good boy. He then went back to the new building to retrieve my ferrets for me. I paid their bill and made an early morning appointment for Marlowe to return the next day to have surgery on his eye.
As I was leaving, a vet nurse rushed out to ask if I’d give my permission for them to publish a photo Rob took of the ferrets post op recovery on their Facebook page. I gave permission and we headed home. Graeme was resigned to another two trips there and back to the vets’ the next day and Marlowe settled down next to Cleo, who had joined him for his car ride into town.
Wednesday morning, I was up early ready for the 45 minute trip back into town. Cleo and Marlowe were loaded into the car and off we set. On arrival, I once again sat in the waiting room until Georgina, with Rob still in tow, came to collect by gorgeous puppy. Then it was back home to wait for the phone call to say we could pick him up.
The call came and we headed back into Wagga yet again. Rob was there to tell me how well behaved Marlowe had been and a short time later Marlowe himself arrived with Georgina. I was given instructions for postoperative care, including the need for Marlowe to wear a cone, and an appointment was made for ten days later to remove the stitches. Marlowe’s blood tests had shown an abnormal liver reading, so Marlowe was to have another blood test then as well. I paid the hefty surgery bill and we headed home.
This is where Marlowe ended up in our bad books. Once home I put the plastic cone on Marlowe and endured quite few bashes to my legs or hips as Marlowe refused to take the extra length added to his front end by the cone. Marlowe spent the rest of the afternoon banging into walls, fences, Cleo, Venus and me. I was glad when nighttime arrived and he settled down for sleep. Little did I suspect what would await me in the morning.
Marlowe met me at the back door without his collar and some of the stitches under his eye torn out. The collar was still intact, he’d just managed to remove it during the night and had a good scratch at the stitches before settling down to sleep.
I took gory, close-up photos of Marlowe’s eye and sent them to Georgina, asking if he’d need the stitches re-done. Georgina said she’d really have to see him in person to gauge the damage done. To say Graeme was unhappy about this decision is to understate his feelings enormously. We headed back to the vets’ for trips number five and six. Cleo was not invited this time, Graeme’s patience was being worn thin and I didn’t want to exacerbate it. On the way into Wagga, Graeme said he wasn’t coming back in on Friday and that was all there was to it. I pointed out if Marlowe needed surgery we wouldn’t have a choice. This statement was met with stony silence, so Marlowe and I decided to keep a low profile for the rest of the trip - Marlowe settling down out of sight, and me reading my book.
We had another wait in the waiting room, where Marlowe made more friends. Rob showed up to commiserate with Marlowe, who was keen to let Rob know that he, Marlowe, had had no choice but to remove the horrible cone and have a good scratch. Hadn’t we heard that it was illegal to torture poor innocent dogs? Georgina arrived, and she too gave Marlowe lots of pats and sympathy. Poor Graeme was waiting in the car, thinking of all the farm work that needed doing while he whiled away the time waiting for me to return to the car – Graeme was the one who really needed pats and sympathy.
Unsurprisingly, the only solution to the problem Marlowe had created was surgery. The remaining stitches needed to be taken out and new ones put in – all under general anaesthetic. Marlowe couldn’t have the surgery that day because they had a full list of operations for the day. Marlowe was booked in for the next day and he and I returned to the car to give Graeme the bad news. Graeme took it stoically and without a word, drove off (once we were in the car – not without us, which I’m sure was a tempting thought for the poor beleaguered farmer).
Friday saw us driving in to Wagga yet again. Cleo was allowed to come along for the ride, and enjoyed it thoroughly. I think, out of everyone concerned, Cleo was the one who had the best time of it. She loves car rides and to get one or two each day for four days was heaven for her. Marlowe was dropped off and once again, I went home and waited for news that Marlowe could be picked up.
The call came in the afternoon so off we drove again. Neither Graeme nor I discussed the cost of this second surgery. When I was given the bill, I nearly fainted. It was only slightly less than the original hefty cost of the eye surgery. I decided not to mention it to Graeme unless he actually asked. Graeme being very wise did not ask.
Marlowe came out with a cone already in place. You have to imagine the size of a plastic cone that will fit a Saint Bernard. They are huge! We had to remove it for Marlowe to fit in the back of the car, but as soon as we were home, I put it back on as tightly as I could while still allowing Marlowe to breathe. I then went online and bought a donut type collar for when the stitches had settled down. This collar went on about a week later when Marlowe had finally managed to destroy his plastic collar. All that bumping into things finally took its toll on the collar and it just gave up with a sigh. Once the soft, donut collar was in place Cleo, Venus, the fences and I were no longer barrelled into by a large dog and hard plastic cone.
The day finally arrived when Marlowe was to have his stitches out. Thankfully, Graeme had managed to be ten productive days the farm so going back in to Wagga again wasn’t an issue this time. I waited in the waiting room with Marlowe, which was fast becoming to feel like a home away from home. We were the only ones in the waiting room this time. Georgina came to collect Marlowe (Rob was nowhere in sight for once) and take him over to the surgical building to remove the stitches and do the blood test.
While Marlowe was away, a Border Collie and his owner and a little Terrier type dog with his owner came into the waiting room. When Marlowe returned, he took one look at the Border Collie, who wasn’t even looking at Marlowe, and decided this dog was scary. The Border Collie and his owner were both waiting in line to pay their bill and were not paying any attention to Marlowe. Marlowe still felt that that black and white dog was up to no good and it was all aimed at an innocent young Saint Bernard. Marlowe began to back up slowly, until he was nearly sitting on my lap. He refused to take his eyes off the Collie, while backing into my legs. Marlowe then decided I was not enough protection so he changed course and backed into Georgina’s legs where she sat beside me. Georgina laughed at Marlowe’s antics, but Marlowe couldn’t see the funny side.
I had to wait for the owner of the Border Collie to pay his bill and leave the waiting room before I could go up to the desk to pay Marlowe’s bill. This was when Marlowe spotted the little Terrier. The Terrier, who had been very nervous ever since he and his owner had arrived, had been pulled out from under his owner’s chair and placed on John, the vets’, knee for his consultation. The Terrier took one look at Marlowe and decided NO! - he was not doing this, and tried desperately to hide inside the vet’s shirt. Marlowe on the other hand was entranced. He didn’t like the Border Collie, but he really, really wanted to be best friends with this tiny little creature. To this end, Marlowe made a number of attempts to lunge at the Terrier, assuring it he came in peace. I had other ideas about this and held on to the lead with all my strength. This made getting my purse out to pay the bill rather difficult. I asked the receptionist if she could hold the lead while I fished out my purse, but though she tried valiantly to keep Marlowe a respectable distance from the poor little, beleaguered Terrier she was only partly successful. We then had the problem that, although I had my debit card out, the receptionist needed to set up the payment. I took Marlowe back, still struggling to keep him from drooling all over the vet and the Terrier. If it wasn’t for one other client, who I will bless for the rest of my days, I imagine things could have ended with Marlowe disgracing himself and really scaring the poor Terrier. This wonderful woman saw the problem and began talking to Marlowe, telling him what a handsome fellow he was and how much she loved his big.
Flattery will always get Marlowe’s attention and thankfully, this saint of a woman was across the other side if the waiting room. Marlowe veered in her direction and forgot all about the Terrier, who I’m sure, had aged a few years in the last few minutes – I know I had. Marlowe sat in front of the woman, showing her his best manners while I paid the bill. I thanked her profusely before I left. “What type of dog is he?” she asked. “A Saint Bernard”, I answered. Her reply to that made me laugh, “Well he’s lovely, but I wouldn’t want him sleeping on my bed!” Neither would I as it happens.
