Kittyhawk
Established Member
We are home for a week now after two and a half months of aimless wandering around the country in the motorhome.
In the South Island we decided to overnight in a small rural town which I won't name to protect the innocent. This little town had just a general store, petrol station, a chemist, a Cafe I think, and a vet serving the local farming community. The vet and a very nice free parking area was why we chose to stay.
We travel with our dog, a very agreeable and placid spaniel cross and probably the best dog we've ever owned except for one little problem, and that is with her anal glands. For non-dog owners who may be reading this, anal glands are located either side of the dogs rectum and about a finger length up its dirt shute and are the reason dogs are forever sniffing each other's butt's. These glands continually secrete miniscule and undetectable amounts of fluid but with some dogs, of which mine is unfortunately one, the glands become impacted and apparently start smelling with an aroma that is pretty high up on the revolting scale. I say apparently because I don't have a sense of taste or smell but according to the Child Bride the smell is reminiscent of fish left in the hot sun for three days over high summer which I take to mean pretty bad.
This necessitates a trip to the vet where after a few minutes of digital manipulation up the dirt shute, the glands are relieved and I in turn am relieved of on average $90 a time.
This visit, I took some rubber gloves with me, told the vet of my background on ambulance and asked if he could teach me the procedure. How hard could it be? The vet was agreeable and like all things it's a bit more complicated that it first appears but under his guidance I became familiar with the anatomy found up a dogs bum hole and managed to clear the glands. Going to save a lot of money going forward. Luckily my dog is very easy going and suffered these indignities with good grace but I do have the feeling that when she walks past me now she does so with an odd sideways shuffle and keeping her hndquarters towards the wall, but that probably just my imagination.
Obviously a lubricant is involved in the procedure which I thought I could buy from him but he only had it in large tubs as you would expect from a large animal vet in a farming area. But he did write something on a piece of paper, folded it and told me to take it across the road to the chemist and 'she would see me right.' So I took the dog back to the motorhome and went to the pharmacy.
The chemist shop.. well I felt intimidated. It was staffed by two very tall, very broad very buxom and very dour looking ladies. I think they were sisters. I must have hesitated in the doorway because the one behind the counter left her place and came striding towards me, watched by her sister in the dispensary. It's funny how things can come to mind in such circumstances and I remembered a line written by a man in a similar situation describing such a woman's approach as 'like a Ship of the Line under full sail with all her cannons run out.'
She took the paper from me without a word, graced me with a lingering look of distaste and took the note to her sister where a conversation took place. I didn't think anything of this, assuming I was getting a product licensed under the NZ Restricted Animal Remedies Act.
I admit what followed was largely my own fault. My head was full of stuff the vet had told me - the glands are located at the 10 O clock 2 O clock position...palpate the tissue ...discharge the gland with upward pressure.. As well, I was in some distress from an old injury and leaning rather heavily on my cane. I was distracted and that's my excuse.
Eventually they came together to the counter, the assistant lady taking my money and the chemist lady giving the sort of look that shrivels up your insides and turns them to mush.
Chemist Lady : Is this product for your own use?
Me : Yes.
Chemist Lady : You will be wearing protection.
Me : Of course.
Chemist Lady : Apply the lubricant sparingly to the rubber, more at the point of insertion.
Me : Yes.
Chemist Lady : Pay particular attention to hygiene. The risk of cross infection remains.
Me : Getting a bit tetchy by now ....Look, all I want to do is have a poke around up my dogs bum now and then. It's not a big deal, is it?
With that the parcel was thrown down on the counter and off they went. I heard the word 'pervert' said, intentionally loudly.
Back at the truck I discovered upon unwrapping that the product the vet had me buy was something called 'Sylk' which the label described as a pleasant tasting lubricant for consenting adults engaging in intimacies of a sexual nature.
And I wonder if the vet was having a bit of a laugh at my expense but whatever, the Child Bride's opinion was that being in a small town where gossip spreads fast and everyone knows everything about everybody, perhaps we should move along, which we did.
In the South Island we decided to overnight in a small rural town which I won't name to protect the innocent. This little town had just a general store, petrol station, a chemist, a Cafe I think, and a vet serving the local farming community. The vet and a very nice free parking area was why we chose to stay.
We travel with our dog, a very agreeable and placid spaniel cross and probably the best dog we've ever owned except for one little problem, and that is with her anal glands. For non-dog owners who may be reading this, anal glands are located either side of the dogs rectum and about a finger length up its dirt shute and are the reason dogs are forever sniffing each other's butt's. These glands continually secrete miniscule and undetectable amounts of fluid but with some dogs, of which mine is unfortunately one, the glands become impacted and apparently start smelling with an aroma that is pretty high up on the revolting scale. I say apparently because I don't have a sense of taste or smell but according to the Child Bride the smell is reminiscent of fish left in the hot sun for three days over high summer which I take to mean pretty bad.
This necessitates a trip to the vet where after a few minutes of digital manipulation up the dirt shute, the glands are relieved and I in turn am relieved of on average $90 a time.
This visit, I took some rubber gloves with me, told the vet of my background on ambulance and asked if he could teach me the procedure. How hard could it be? The vet was agreeable and like all things it's a bit more complicated that it first appears but under his guidance I became familiar with the anatomy found up a dogs bum hole and managed to clear the glands. Going to save a lot of money going forward. Luckily my dog is very easy going and suffered these indignities with good grace but I do have the feeling that when she walks past me now she does so with an odd sideways shuffle and keeping her hndquarters towards the wall, but that probably just my imagination.
Obviously a lubricant is involved in the procedure which I thought I could buy from him but he only had it in large tubs as you would expect from a large animal vet in a farming area. But he did write something on a piece of paper, folded it and told me to take it across the road to the chemist and 'she would see me right.' So I took the dog back to the motorhome and went to the pharmacy.
The chemist shop.. well I felt intimidated. It was staffed by two very tall, very broad very buxom and very dour looking ladies. I think they were sisters. I must have hesitated in the doorway because the one behind the counter left her place and came striding towards me, watched by her sister in the dispensary. It's funny how things can come to mind in such circumstances and I remembered a line written by a man in a similar situation describing such a woman's approach as 'like a Ship of the Line under full sail with all her cannons run out.'
She took the paper from me without a word, graced me with a lingering look of distaste and took the note to her sister where a conversation took place. I didn't think anything of this, assuming I was getting a product licensed under the NZ Restricted Animal Remedies Act.
I admit what followed was largely my own fault. My head was full of stuff the vet had told me - the glands are located at the 10 O clock 2 O clock position...palpate the tissue ...discharge the gland with upward pressure.. As well, I was in some distress from an old injury and leaning rather heavily on my cane. I was distracted and that's my excuse.
Eventually they came together to the counter, the assistant lady taking my money and the chemist lady giving the sort of look that shrivels up your insides and turns them to mush.
Chemist Lady : Is this product for your own use?
Me : Yes.
Chemist Lady : You will be wearing protection.
Me : Of course.
Chemist Lady : Apply the lubricant sparingly to the rubber, more at the point of insertion.
Me : Yes.
Chemist Lady : Pay particular attention to hygiene. The risk of cross infection remains.
Me : Getting a bit tetchy by now ....Look, all I want to do is have a poke around up my dogs bum now and then. It's not a big deal, is it?
With that the parcel was thrown down on the counter and off they went. I heard the word 'pervert' said, intentionally loudly.
Back at the truck I discovered upon unwrapping that the product the vet had me buy was something called 'Sylk' which the label described as a pleasant tasting lubricant for consenting adults engaging in intimacies of a sexual nature.
And I wonder if the vet was having a bit of a laugh at my expense but whatever, the Child Bride's opinion was that being in a small town where gossip spreads fast and everyone knows everything about everybody, perhaps we should move along, which we did.
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adventures.
