Idiot Dog Teddy goes to the doctor

Several months ago a cyst (or something like that - I'm not a doctor) appeared in the corner of IDT's right eye. It didn't seem to bother him and he didn't spend any time scratching at it or rubbing it. So we ignored it.

Until last week.

I was getting ready to head to work and I gave him a goodbye face rub and was a bit alarmed that my hand ended up with blood on it. I worked out that it wasn't gushing, washed my hands, and headed out the  door. And then came back in when I worked out that he had rubbed his face on my pants (I later found out that my shirt was not spared either - weirdly this was one of the days that I visited the grandkids at Klub Kaiser).

In any case, it was decided that it was time to take IDT to the dog doctor. And today Mrs Notthat did just that. This is not a job for the faint at heart, and I was more than a little nervous that she volunteered to do this on her own. 

IDT has the social skills of Darth Vader when he is around other dogs, and it seemed likely that there would be other dogs at the dog doctor. But it turned out fine - there were no other dogs to test Mrs Notthat's (and the leash's) strength. 

I fully expected him to come home wearing one of those humiliating cones, but instead there is just a small bottle of drops we get to put in his eye.

If you look REALLY closely and have a GOOD imagination, you can see the cyst in the picture.

But it would have been more fun to see him in a cone.

That's it - move along...