This week I had to take her to the vet for her incontinence to try some new meds. As I wrestled a screaming Billy into his carseat, I clipped the leash on Princess and paraded her around the yard in hopes to collect a urine sample.
Billy was screaming in his carseat and Princess just looked at me like, "Why are you following me so closely with that ladle in your hand?!" clearly aware that she was about to be violated.
In an ill-tempered rush, I grunted and lead Princess to the car without a urine sample. When she jumped from passenger seat to driver seat I shouted and startled a now quieting Billy, encouraging more tears. Princess sulked and cowered back to her rightful chair.
Climbing into my side of the vehicle, I slammed the door and immediately smelled a stench I recognized....dirty dog. I turned the key in the ignition and stared at Princess while backing down the driveway.
"Damn dirty, smelly dog that won't pee. YOU smell, you know that?! YOU SMELL. UGH! Princess."
She looked back at me with knowing eyes as if she were nodding in agreement. "I know. I'm stupid. Stupid dog. You tell me all the time."
I flew through our subdivision and dropped Billy off at my mother-in-law's house. Then, it was just us two girls on our way to the vet.
When I got out of the car, she politely waited until asked to exit the vehicle. She piddled on demand and I collected it in my sample cup so the vet could test her urine, looking back at me with a slightly embarrassed acknowledgement. "I know you are doing this for my own good."
Other than excessive wagging (she wags with her whole body) and squeaking to make friends in the waiting room, she waited patiently for her name to be called.
She stepped right on the scale and stood like a statue while the technician took her weight. Again, we were taken to a room where I asked her to lay down and wait. She obliged immediately.
Within minutes of arriving in the exam room, the vet came in to see us. He bent to give her a pet and she have him a hearty, full-bodied wag. He laughed and praised her social demeanor and asked her to step on the exam table.
She stood like a statue again, as though she understood exactly why she was there and just wanted her embarrassing piddle puddles to go away.
The vet complimented her health and weight, and stepped back to give her a full look-over.
Turning to me, he said, "She is perfect. Great weight, great health. Great personality. And I bet she took to the baby with ease too, didn't she?" I nodded and looked into her eyes, and we had a moment. He was right, she is great and I haven't told her lately.
The last three months I've been so busy trying to keep Billy happy I've forgotten about our first 'baby' - Princess. All along, she's been right there, helping me by being the "Nanny Dog", as we love to call her.
She takes her job very seriously and sticks right next to the stroller on walks.
She's always there for me, too. Sometimes as a foot rest...
this video of her with Billy yesterday morning: