Lucille is my year and a half year old standard poodle, red in color, sassy by nature. When my husband and I discussed the possibility of moving overseas, she was my biggest stipulation. “I’ll go anywhere as long as we can take Lucille.” I know, I know, you can probably think of more practical concerns when facing an expat assignment, but there it is. Lucille loves to walk in the rain.
Here is Lucille happy after a walk in the rain:
And here she is mad when I refused to take her back out again:
Happily hanging out at home:
Mad when I didn’t give her the world’s best haircut of all time. (In my defense, at least I can now see her angry eyes and monkey feet). Anyway, this pretty much sums up our relationship:
No matter that she only tolerates me best because I am her favorite human if she is forced to pick one, Lucille is my happy place. And a few weeks ago, she was sick. I didn't tell you all about it immediately because I was terrified. As I opined to my husband, if she didn't make it, I was definitely going to need a puppy. But honestly, a year and a half between babies just isn't enough time. I know there are more puppies in my future, but right now, I just don't have the energy for one.
Anyway, she was really sick and I needed a vet. Like anything here, to find a vet you can't rely on google. You have to know someone who knows one. Fortunately, my new-found community came through and I had a list of names to call. The first one only sees patients from 4-6pm, no exceptions (I was in full blown panic mode and it was 7:15am). The second number, no answer. The third number answered but said that he is in the States currently, no mention of when he'd be back to town, please call his assistant at this number and ask her to give me the number for Dr. Lawrence who can help me. (I decided not to ask why he couldn't just give me Dr. Lawrence's number, clearly he didn't have it). I called the assistant, no answer. So, I tried my luck online by searching specifically for Dr. Lawrence and found a number. I called it and got an answer. Dr. Lawrence wasn't in, but his vet tech was so come on by. Great, I called my driver, please come get me.
We arrived at Dr. Lawrence's office. I'll spare you all the gory details of that unsanitary clinic space, but basically his diagnosis was that she had a mild case of eczema. Ecca-what?!? Vomiting, diarrhea...definitely a mild case of eczema! Thank goodness I'm wasn’t trying to diagnose her, I would have been completely off base. I did let him give her a shot of a general antibiotic...because...panicked.
Fast forward to the next day, Lucille was still sick. She had perked up the night before but then plummeted again by morning. I got a new recommendation. My driver took me to a residential neighborhood and we came to a stop in front of a house not unlike my own, with a gate and absolutely no vet signage. But, upon entering the yard, I had found my people: a waiting room under the carport of people clutching their beloved canines. This second vet was much more helpful and helped get her back to full health.
Oh, and also, I should tell you that no one here has ever seen a standard poodle. People stop me all over town to ask me if they can "take a selfie with her.” Basically, I’m just an accessory to her natural celebrity.
All this chitter chatter brings me to what I really wanted to tell you all about: the waiting carport at the vet. I was there almost all day while they gently poked and prodded Lucille and gave her injections and ran blood work, and it was like hanging out at a bus stop. I met all kinds of people and pets. One Guyanese woman in particular stood out. She appeared benign enough when she arrived, with her fluffy, healthy looking lap dog. She politely asked me about Lucille and where I was from. She asked me how I got Lucille here and I said I flew her. She was aghast, "in the belly of the plane?!?" That is inhumane!!!!" I assured her that I worried about it plenty and that Lucille was fine.
Then she slowly started into how she can't understand people who eat animal byproducts. She said she used to eat animals but that was before she was aware. People in Guyana, you know, don't read so they don't know any better, but if you read, you will learn about the feelings of animals and the cruelty that goes into raising and slaughtering for food. Do you know that the cows cry actual tears while being forced to walk toward their own murders?!? People don't need animal products to be healthy, it's just all we know. People think we need meat for protein but there are other forms of protein. We just need to be aware, once we are aware we won't murder for food. She just can't understand the mass cruelty that we humans cause in the name of food. I tried my best to keep the conversation light. She went on about how the earthquakes and the tsunamis and such natural disasters of the world are punishment for the people who murder animals. She started getting louder and louder and the other people started sliding slowly away. Lucille was curled up on my lap (and the woman was directing her words at me) so I was trapped.
She asked me what I feed Lucille. Inside I panicked, but I played it cool. "I feed her a brand out of Canada. I brought it down with me. What do you feed your dog?" And I'm not making this up, this is what she said:
"Chicken and rice."
I did my best to poker face my internal laughter at the best punchline I've heard in a long time. She must have detected the flutter of my heartbeat because she defended herself.
"He needs the protein!"