Gunny here. This is not my favorite place – the vet. At least this lady didn’t make me sit on some cold metal table up in the air- she sits on the floor with me, talks to my mom, rubs my belly and massages my neck.

Now, I’m just a dog. I don’t understand a lot of what they talk about. When those doctors start talking about heartworms, all I hear is “blah blah blah.” These vets make a big deal about talking to my human about these things, then someone takes me in the back, holds me tight, and sticks something sharp into my leg. They call it a blood sample. I’ll show them a blood sample!

I don’t know what it is about this blood sample either. After they take it, I go back into the room with my human and we wait for someone to tell us the sample was good. Of course it was good! I have a good blood. I’m a good strong dog. I’ve been around. Had a couple of different homes.

At these previous homes, they’d say something about a “heartworm pill.” Seems like it was around once a month because the moon always looked about the same. Then they give me this thing that was shaped like a treat, but it didn’t smell so good. Dog, would it tear up my stomach! Or sometimes they put some gooey slime on the back of my neck. I felt like something the cat dragged in for a couple of days afterwards. Every single time.

Now let me tell you about this new doctor. What she told my mom shocked both of us! She told my mother some of those heartworm pills were making my dog friends sick. Giving them something called “pan kree a tight is.” I don’t know if I spelled that right – I am just a dog. But she said it’s painful, my friends suffer, and some of my dog friends even die from these pills! That makes me mad enough to go fight the pitbull down the street!

This doctor told my mother that there were some options and my mother could decide.

This vet sounded a little crazy to me – like conspiracy theory or something – talking about how the government won’t let anything but chemicals prove they can prevent this heartworm thing. Whatever. I’m excited to know that I don’t have to eat those poisonous medicines that took me down for two days every moon cycle.

But the best news is she gave my mother all the information and my mom decided that real food and something called “herbs,” which taste to me like a bunch of plants, would keep me safe.

Like I said, I’m just a dog. I don’t understand it all, but my dog friends are smart enough to figure it out for themselves. They should talk to these people who offer options. More vets should be like this.

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