Poor Gunthy

Gunther had to have his teeth cleaned this week. His stinky, nasty, brown fish-breath teeth. For those who have no pet, or have not yet reached this decision in your pet's life, the tooth cleaning is an exhaustive process involving anesthesia. So, we took a trip to the vet-med building here on campus, and Gunther took a li'l nap while the faculty carved the brown crap off his teeth for the students' enjoyment and learning experience.

Personal experience tells me that it can take anywhere from a half a day to a couple days to really come back to life from full-on general anesthesia. So I expected Gunther to feel a little less than perky when I picked him up after class on Tuesday. And he was. But he was pushy enough that he was trying to pull me out the door--he wanted to go home. So we walked back to the car, Gunther more or less weaving his way beside me--usually he's way up front yanking me along. The car was parked on the 3rd floor of the flashy new Health Education Center parking garage, and when we entered the garage on the 1st floor we discovered that the brand-new elevators were "out of order." Thanks a lot, Western University.

I thought, "Oh, he's fine. We'll get there." He was fine for the first 6 steps. Then he just quit. And looked up at me as if saying, "Are ya kiddin' me?" He wouldn't budge. So, the only thing I could do was stoop down and try to awkwardly scoop his 36 lb. fanny up in my arms. I should've hoisted him up over my shoulders like the shepherds in the bible do with their wayward lambs, but his legs aren't long enough to get around my neck. And, so, with a heavy backpack, lunchbox, stack of papers and a Corgi awkwardly hoisted in my arms, we--by this I mean I--slowly hiked up the 3 flights to the car.

Then, of course, he whined all the way home. I had to carry him into the house and upstairs where I deposited him on the bed so he could sleep it off.

 

The next morning he sprang from his nest and hit the ground running. Gunther is back and fresher than ever!