You know those little yappie dogs? They are little but bark the loudest and the most. I call them football dogs, because they always seem to make me want to kick them.
When I was in high school I realized the opposite of the football dog. The scardy horse-sized dog.
I was walking and every day I would pass by a house that had a dog behind a fence. The big dog would bark and bark at me. Then one day when he put his paws up on the fence for optimum barking...the fence fell. I was standing there looking at the dog. The massive-horse-like dog. The fence crashed to the floor and there was nothing between me and Cujo.
In the next 3 seconds a million things ran through my head. "Stand still, run up a tree, put my hand out and hope he smells it and doesn't snack on it, look tough, don't look it in the eye...crap..what are you supposed to do when faced with a man-eating Goliath dog!?"
I am not sure what the dog was thinking of during those 3 seconds. I figured he was picturing me in a silver platter with an apple stuffed in my mouth like a Tom & Jerry cartoon meal.
I was wrong. As soon as the fence finished clattering the dog started right at me. Then yelped and turned and ran strait back into the back yard as far away from me as possible.
Big dogs can be just as timid as little dogs can be fearless.
Which brings me to my own little pup. Zachary was such a small little baby. He was a preemie and only weighted 5 lbs 9oz at birth. He quickly made up for it. Just like the big dogs, Zach is a timid little guy, on the inside.
On Thursday Dave got a call at work from Coleman who was all upset about something. Dave could hardly understand him. When he finally got him to calm down enough to talk to him he understood only 1 thing. Zachary was yelling at Coleman and Coleman was crying about it. Dave asked Cole why Zach was yelling and Coleman said that Zach was yelling at him because he wasn't helping and that he was getting blood all over. A very quick car ride later Dave was home to find that Zachary, (in his never ending quest for food) got into a can of Spaghettios. He had sliced his thumb on the can lid. Zachary and Coleman had argued over the best way to care for it and that is how the argument broke out.
Dave called me at work and told me about it while he bandaged it up. I ran home to take a look at it. After several bandages and an hour later it was still bleeding. It wasn't a big cut, but it was deep. If figured if it was still bleeding through a band-aid an hour after injury that perhaps I should have someone look at it. I took Zachary to the quick care.
As soon as we walked in I recognized one of the nurses. She was working for the local pediatrician when Zachary was getting his kindergarten immunizations 5 years ago. He jumped and screamed when he got his shots. The nurse was afraid that he was going to break the needle off inside his leg so she pulled it out. In doing so she scraped herself with the needle and still to this day has a scar from the incident. I was laughing about this and pointing out to my little big dog the scar. Unfortunately the doctor had over heard the tale and did not think it was so humorous.
He looked at Zach's thumb and declared that it would need stitches. He told Zach that he would need to numb it first and that meant a shot. Zach was afraid but I explained to him that he would be fine. I told him that Ben did not feel a thing when he got his stitches, that he slept right through it. So my little big dog laid down and said, "ok, wait til I go to sleep...then do it." The doctor put on his tough guy act, (or so I thought it was an act) and told Zach to man up. He told him that he was going to give him 5 minutes to calm down, then he was going to come back and do the shot.
A few minutes later he came back and got into position to give Zach the shot. He held Zach's hand and started the shot. Zachary yelled out loud as soon as the needle hit.
Here is the thing- I know Zach can be a big chicken. I am annoyed quite often by his lack of fortitude. Because of this I didn't mind the near-yelling talk about being a man the doctor gave him. However, the events that unfolded as Zachary let out that yell proved that he was not acting. The doctor stood up, kicked away the tray in front of him, slammed the needle in the sharps container and yelled that he refuses to give Zachary stitches. I was so shocked I couldn't even come up a biting smart-aleck comment like I usually do when annoyed by people.
So, my little big dog did not get stitches from the yapping little dog doctor that day.
Of course with more and more doctors leaving our sad little town every month we are running out of options. I think I am going to invest in some super glue.
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