Have you ever noticed how similar "trauma" and "drama" sound? Skunk drama. Human trauma. In short, the vet visit was traumatic for all. Hobkin has not forgotten nor forgiven the last time he was in there. Fortunately, the vet hasn't forgotten the last time either. He didn't suggest that they take him out of the room, and they even had me put him on the scale to weigh him, although in the past they have had a vet assistant scoop him up to put on the scale. However, even though I was in the room, along with his godmother and another skunk-savvy vet tech, all of us holding him, he put up a huge fuss, shrieking and struggling when they went to get a blood sample. He was very loud. So loud the nice couple in the next room with the bunny commented on it when we encountered them in the waiting room for check out. (The bunny looked rather put out as well.) And Hobkin slashed up my hand pretty good. That was somewhat on purpose on my part. I wanted to make sure that if anyone got bit, it'd be me, so I was prone to sticking my hand and fingers in his face when I saw he was getting ready to lose it.
My poor lil guy!
The vet couldn't do a proper check-up because Hobkin wouldn't tolerate him touching him except when he was restrained, and restraining him was too stressful for everyone to do for longer than it took to get the blood sample. So the vet didn't charge us for the office visit . . . which is nice. We ended up only paying for the blood test and his shots. Although at the same time, I would have liked Hobkin to have received a thorough, hands on examination.
The general consensus on his teeth (the vet got a few chances to look into his mouth, and once Hobkin had settled down I was able to show his godmother and the vet tech the state of his gums) was that he can probably stand to go as is for another year, but to try to do what brushing and crunchy food feeding we can. Next year they'll knock him out to do his exam and blood draw, and while he's out, give his teeth a good cleaning.
Back home, Hobkin was groggy from the shot, and Matthew and I were exhausted from the experience. There was much napping all around.
How can someone so angelic-looking turn so completely into a demon beastie?
As we knew already, Hobkin's pudgy and could stand to lose a half pound or so.
6 more crits this morning from Critters. So far, the tale has been very well received. Have started doing rewrite tweaks. Pair of editing passes completed.
Club 100 For Writers
We take Hobkin to Avalon Animal Hospital in Lawrenceville. They specialize in pet skunks (and other "exotics"). It's really hard finding a vet who's experienced with skunks. I think our vet sees the majority of the pet skunks in the area.
Vet visits are traumatic for everyone. Your babies can't tell you what they're feeling, you can't tell them it'll be okay, and the vet is a stranger whom you're trusting with the well-being of a member of your family. What's worse is that your baby can't tell you if the vet is doing something that's not helping or is actually hurting. My sympathies to you and Hobkin.
His ass is SPOILED! Let me handle him, he'll meet someone that's handled FAR bigger and meaner stinkers than him! I've handle 20 pounders that were ornery! (Ok, well I actually just lifted his back end and scooted him towards the carrier)
Well yes, he's most definitely spoiled. That's a given. But he was also really scared. Dr. DeLong said Hobkin almost had a prolapse, which is when we put him back in his carrier to have a time out and calm down. How come our skunk is such a whiner? All the other skunkies I saw at the skunks show were so much more laid back and mellow. Argh.