I’m going to depart from my usual lovely prose, because frankly, I’m still kind of in shock.
Today, I was determined as heck to have a productive day. This meant visiting the tailor, health center, and vet. Luckily for me, I literally ran into the local vet today, giving me a chance to be like, yeah, I’d really prefer my dog to not make puppies anytime soon. Or ever. Can you help me with that?
I also needed some meds since the dog has been battling worms and needs a rabies shot. She said it was fine for me to get those at her house, a short walk away from my compound instead of going all the way to her office. She told me to drop by around 5 and she’d hook me up.
Went at 5 and as Cameroonians are wont to do, she got me a chair and told me to sit down and relax while she got her stuff. Njamma is in my lap, asleep and probably dreaming of good lookin’ girl puppies, when the vet shows up and is all “So how we wanna hold him?”
I was like, oh, for the shots, obviously, because chopping a puppy’s nuts off takes time and an operating room. Not to mention an appointment, mental preparation, and lots of apologies.
Wrong. It only takes my lap, a shot of Novocaine to his ween, ten bucks and a razor blade, as it turns out.
She flipped him over, told me that I should really consider holding his mouth because I was the white girl and they vaccinate us against whatever crap his has in there if he decides to go Cujo on us and bite, and went to town. Less than 10 minutes later and he’s a eunuch. Ashia for balls, Njamma Njamma.
Guess I can check a few things off my bucket list.
In good news, Njamma is already back to his normal self and seems to be feeling fine. I gave him peanut butter and made him an omelet to say I’m sorry.