We recently took our sweet and demure 55 lb border collie to the veterinarian, to have her nails clipped. Try as we might, she wouldn’t let my wife and I clip her nails.
Once at the Vet, on the examination table. I held the pooch while Mr. Vet tried to clip her nails. After much struggle, another Vet came into assist. I moved to the rear of the pooch, and held my ground. The border collie, named Tippie, began making sounds not unlike those in the excorcist movie. I realized later, these were warnings.
Picture urine and poop flying through the air. Picture it in my hair, on my glasses, my clothes, on the floor, the table, and on the other two men holding the pooch. Quarts, gallons, everywhere, and a stink like something from an autopsy.
One Vet mused “guess I’ll have to shower before I go out to eat dinner tonight”.
Then the Vet who clipped her nails looked at me and said “she isn’t the worst, but she’s in the top 10..”