So I am pretty obsessed with English Bull Terriers. They are by far my favorite breed of dog, and I love my bully to death. This week we had to take both of our family dogs to the vet. We had to get their nails trimmed and run some tests. Our Weimaraner is skittish, so my mom left work to meet me at the vet, and my bull terrier is trouble personified, so my boyfriend skipped out on some plans to help me.
In order to trim Bewee’s nails (that’s the bull terrier’s name) they had to drug her. This is what I mean by trouble. She would NOT let them cut her nails unless they got her drunkie DRUNK.
Now, I was definitely worried about Bewee feeling pain while they dremmelled her very thick nails. But as you can see, she was probably not feeling anything.
Here she is drooling on my lap. You can tell that I love her cause I am sitting on the floor of the vet’s office. Yeesh.
The best part is that when she gets drugged like this, our normally sprightly-for-a-13-year-old dog can’t even walk. So I got to carry her out of the vet, into the car, out of the car, and into the house.
Here I am, with all 60 pounds of pure muscle and dead weight. Look at those drunk eyes! What an adventure. She was out of it for hours, and I had to hand feed her dinner. I know, it’s like “you know you’re a crazy bull terrier owner when…” But can you blame me??