![]() Last fourth of July, Riggins and I went to my sister’s house to be with her family. I have to get up, let the king take his place with his head on the pillow, and then I can get back in and find space around him to lie down. He will just sit there and stare at me like a creepy stalker. If I’m on his side of the bed, he won’t budge. In general, Riggins sleeps in his bed until the early morning. Sometimes this means me physically getting up and moving to the other side of the sofa because he wants to sit in the warm spot I’ve made and put his head on the armrest. Sometimes this means scooting over so he can sit next to me with half his body on my lap (he is a big dog). If I’m watching TV and Riggins wants to come sit up on the sofa, I need to move to allow him his spot of choice. Lounging comfort Riggins slides into his place on the sofa and my lap. Me? If it’s not on sale or generic, I have a hard time sticking it in my grocery cart, and I just consumed a pack of mini donuts that I’m sure includes a number of ingredients I am unable to pronounce. You know the one that is rarely on sale when I need it to be and whose label I have analyzed in depth, making sure it has a fish-only protein and no grains. I’m sure I’m not the only one who heads off to the pet store to purchase a big ol’ bag of pricey dog food on a regular basis. Food Riggins knows he has a tasty treat coming his way. Me? My insurance changes so often I don’t even have a primary care physician at the moment. We are greeted with, “Why is Riggins here today?” each time we come though the door. Not to mention I know all of the vets at his doctor’s office, and everyone there knows him. Riggins’ insurance is so much better than mine it’s laughable. Insurance and doctor’s offices Riggins and me. I have the scar to prove I would have been smarter to go get a stitch or two. Instead, I put some hydrogen peroxide on the wound and called it a day. Me? It just seemed like a lot of work to head to an ER or urgent care center. When I realized that Riggins was hurt - he has really thick black fur that hid the puncture and blood - I IMMEDIATELY put him in the back of the car and zoomed off to the fanciest dog emergency room in the area. We should have been examined by someone with much more medical training than I have. Recently, Riggins and I were both victims of rambunctious pups and both sported puncture wounds from two separate incidences. Emergency care Riggins doesn’t let a little thing like a body bandage stand in his way of dog-park fun. I still haven’t rescheduled my dental cleaning that was originally set for three months ago, not to mention my annual eye appointment that I was due for in August.Ģ. Me? I’ve missed my daily pills more than I care to admit to my doctor or mom. As soon as I get a little postcard from the vet telling me Riggins is due for a checkup, I make an appointment. Then, of course, there are the vaccines and boosters: rattlesnake, flu, Bordetella, and rabies, just to name a few. Then there are the times that he has been on antibiotics or ear drops or some medicinal salve. I don’t want him to get heartworms, so he is on that medicine as well. We hike, so he needs a flea and tick treatment, emphasis on tick. ![]() As a nine-year-old, he gets a joint supplement. If Riggins needs medicine, he gets it like clockwork. One of the ways this is obvious is how I take better care of Riggins than I do myself. ![]() Although I like to say that my level of dog crazy is “normal,” all signs point to the fact that I’m slightly crazier than I like to admit. My dog, Riggins, is my friend, protector, roommate, and baby boy. I’m a single 40-year-old woman living just outside of Los Angeles.
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