holy crap...

so i just returned from a visit to the veterinarian with 2 of my 3 hound dogs. 28 pound lab puppy, here to fore known as hartley. and my now 8 pound (she gained one:) poodle named for my favorite mountain, mckinley. seemed reasonable, and one might even argue, sensible to take them to the vet together and get the proverbial 2 birds business done with the one stone. this is one of those many moments in my life where i realize the vast difference between theory and actuality. in theory, it's a good idea. in actuality, i feel like i just survived something horrific, and i'm having a hard time piecing together the memories of the last hour. the ptsd has set in and i am moving into a stunned phase of shock and awe. i'm sure the flashbacks will come and bring with them all sorts of panic type features. fur flying everywhere. a boneless red haired puppy flopping about like a gynormous fish out of water. a gynormous fish on a leash that continually wraps around, and nearly snaps, my ankle bones as he twists and turns his way ever closer to the the young vet tech in a smock covered in kittens playing with balls of yarn. what's that i hear in the background? a mix of heavy panting from said lab and a sharp ear piercing yap from my mountainous poodle. i tink i feel a drop of blood trickle from my ear. i am sure in this moment that this is my nam. and i'm wondering who i should of said what to. did i tell dana i loved her enough? are my girls going to watch helplessly as i perish here on the waiting room floor of a veterinary office? what will they remember of me? suddenly i feel cold and i see a bright light. am i dead? no, it's the a/c kicking on and the door to the exam room has opened, offering solace in it's confinement. i crawl past the obese black cat named dora that lives in that hellish waiting room and into a small well lit room where i am safe. and then an angel appears, a different vet tech this time, and her smock has puppies on it. "oh thank god", i think to myself, "she is a dog person, surely she will help me. she will untangle me and save me from this dirty hairy floor." and she does. she lifts the crazy blob of a puppy onto the exam table and takes his leash along with him. he settles down, and even lays down. i stand, i feel the floor beneath my feet and i think, i just might make it out of here. don't breathe, don't blink. just hand over your credit card and keeps your eyes on the door. we're almost done. and the vet has come and gone and examined the dogs and injected them with something i assume is good for them. everything sounds like i'm in a tunnel. little georgia tugs on my tank top and asks me something, but i can't hear her. it's like she's charlie browns teacher. i am lost and solely focused on making it out alive. suddenly i am home. i don't remember getting both wiggling yapping piles of fur into the car and driving, but i must have because i am here. i am safe. i open the door to the backyard and they run out to lap up some water and greet their big brother. god knows what they will tell him of our time away. my head is full and racing and i have pains in places i shouldn't. leash burns and near bone breaks i suppose. i am thankful my life was spared, and for this blog onto which i empty the contents of my head and let the healing begin.

...and now i have to go make dinner.