Pete the pup has had a rough morning.
He's dozing in his kennel, worn out from a traumatic trip to the veterinarian's office.
We took him to the vet four weeks ago, where he got medicated for roundworms - a parasite common to puppies. The doc gave us a syringe with a second dose of the liquid to squirt down Pete's throat on Jan. 6 and we followed his instructions.
But scrutiny of Pete's poop showed he was still blowing out worms as late as this morning.
Turns out they were tapeworm segments, something outside the reach of the wormer meds we'd given him.
So, in addition to his distemper shot this morning, Pete had to swallow a couple of tapeworm pills. The doc put them deep into Pete's throat and the pup managed to swallow one, but spit out the other.
He clearly wanted nothing more to do with pills, so the doc had to straightjacket him with a towel wrap and recruit an assistant to hold the pup down while he used a pill-poker to jam the tabled down his throat.
Pete, of course, was sure he was being killed and screamed and choked accordingly.
He stuck close by my side while I paid the bill and lay quietly in his basket on the ride home.
He went directly to his kennel for a nap and I haven't heard a peep out of him since.
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