Rose's Cantina

Last Friday evening, Scott turned Sophie on her belly to examine her two week old stitches from her spay. "Call the vet tomorrow. This incision doesn't look very good." The "tomorrow" was Saturday and our vet isn't in on Saturday. It's one of these doctor-lifestyle things where vets, like family docs, would rather be running the New York marathon than tending to pets on the weekend. Sure enough, when I called, the answering machine instructed me to call the new emergency veterinary clinic that all of the local vets have invested in. The nice lady there advised that it would be a whopping $165 to walk in the door and suggested I call another vet in town. We do have a second vet for Finnigan, but he would have charged me at least 60 bucks as punishment for going to another vet. So we sat on Sophie's stitches until Monday. We arrived with Sophie and Finnigan in tow following our walk at Conroy Pit. "It will take a few minutes," the ...

The Ikea monkey's mom should have considered a pug. The little pug currently having a gnaw on Finnigan the retriever has a monkey face and would look fabulous in a shearling coat. I might suggest re-homing the coat as we would be tickled to have it on Sophie for her walks at the dog park. As all of my Facebook friends know by now, I got Sophie as an early Christmas present. She was a rescue from an Octomom in Buckingham. The lady got Sophie three weeks ago -- allegedly paid a grand for her -- and then discovered she was preggers again, knocked up by the handyman in the slippers, at least that's what I reckon. A part of me thinks this whole thing was a scam. The woman claimed Sophie was a purebred, five months old, and I've had enough purebreds to know that the breeders will take them back rather than see their prized canines handed off to someone who might make money breeding puggles or some such. Also, Sophie had no papers. We didn't ask for them, frankly, as I ...