Really...I'm not spoiled

Here she is...my spoiled but not spoiled Cocoa. Cocoa has had a rough month. Her right ear had been very dirty for some time. The base vet gave me some ear cleaner and told me to clean her ear regularly; that for some reason she seemed to be producing a lot of wax. Well, let me tell you...she was producing wax because she had an infection. I found out the day before I left for Indiana when her eardrum burst and I had to spend the day at the vet and in search of an open farmacia to fill her prescription. I felt so incredibly horrible...so anyway, as much as I'd rather not have her on the furniture, I didn't have the heart to make her get down. Here she is sleeping on the couch with her bouncy ball and bone...in actuality she was inches from where I was working diligently on procrastinating a paper.

My wonderful Italian vet really likes Cocoa. He remembered her from a year ago when she was in to see him for a nearly fatal poisoning. Anyway, she has been pretty good about letting me give her the treatments and her ear is looking really great. Bad news is yesterday she started shaking her head a lot and scratching at her other ear...and whining while doing so -- the same actions as she had gone through in the week before the ruptured eardrum...so I took her in again today - more treatments and a we go back Monday...looks infected too -- I can only hope that we caught this one in time to help her.

Oh yeah...and she's fat! She weighs 76 pounds and could stand to lose about 8 pounds. I told the vet that I was feeding her what the bag said to feed her - 3 cups - (Science Diet) -- to which the response was "they're in the business to sell dog food" -- "cut her down to 2 cups". 2 CUPS!! That seems like nothing...but orders are orders...she's already on withdrawal from cheese, vegies, meat, toast, and whatever other crumb she could convince me to share with her.

In case you're wondering...no, she didn't even flinch when I took her picture -- she kept on sleeping...poor baby.

Sometimes I wish she could talk, then she could tell me when something was wrong...although she would also say other things...I imagine like when her ball goes under the couch..."could you get my ball? Please? Please, please, please, huh, could you....now...please." Kind of like a 3 year old...that would drive me up the wall - she does a good enough job without being able to speak...at least in an intelligible language...although I do understand her head tilts, whimpers, semi-barks, and such.