I admit it. When Frankie was first diagnosed with diabetes I couldn’t shut up about it.
Part of it was the fact that, until he got regulated, it was the only thing on my mind. When I wasn’t at the vet getting glucose curves, I was on line browsing canine diabetes sites that predicted imminent blindness and worse (you know, those angel dog avatars).
Then there was the bid for sympathy. I was aware that my life was going to change and I wanted everyone to know what a wonderful, selfless person I was.
I quickly discovered that sharing is overrated. Here are just a few of the reactions that made me rev down my motor mouth.
Sorry you have to kill your dog
The woman who runs my favorite local farmer’s market, a good acquaintance (or semi-friend), said, “Oh I’m so sorry, We just had to put our dog down, too.”
Put our dog down, too? Actually, I hadn’t been planning to kill Frankie. The only substance I anticipated being injected into his body was insulin. She said this in front of Frankie, yet. I wanted to bend down and cover his little ears.
I haven’t been able to go back to the farmer’s market, even though I miss those organic tomatoes.
You think your dog is sick...
The guy who was putting in the irrigation system, a dog lover who’s always nice to Frankie, said “Oh yeah, another client has a little dog that got dental disease. The teeth were so rotted that the bone was destroyed and you could see his brain.”
Thanks for that image, Tom. Now I’m going to go brush Frankie’s teeth.
No wonder your dog looks depressed
This comment was from a man with a three-legged dog named Abby that I see along the trail where Frankie and I walk. Now Abby is a happy, frisky pup, an inspiring symbol of adversity conquered, and Frankie’s a shy guy. But Abby’s owner never noticed Frankie’s desperate need for doggie Zoloft until I happened to mention his diabetes.
Maybe you can give him back
This was said by a mutual friend of the woman who initially rescued and fostered Frankie; I’d adopted him from her three years earlier. Yeah, while I’m at it, I’ll see if I can get a refund of the $200 shelter/neutering/veterinary fee so I can buy myself a nice pair of shoes.
Ok, cough ’em up. What are some of your worst “I told people my dog was sick and they said…” stories?