At the Vet

  My mood after my first vet visit can best be summed up with one word: “P*****-OFF”.  Yes, that’s really two words, but I think you get the point.  I liken this event to mom’s annual visits to the Doctor.  You know the kind I mean.  Those below the belt visits known as the PAP.  Oh yes,—I know all about it.  I’ve heard mom complain about them for years. So why then, dear reader, does she insist on inflicting this torture on her innocent avian friends? It has been 11 years since my first vet visit. I have gone every year since I have been in mom's care. But the first visit has forever been seared upon my avian brain.


Let's review the horrible onslaught of details....



        We arrived at the vet’s office about 15 minutes early.  (Mom said we were just going for a ride in the car. Said we were going to stop and get treats, and then take in a little sun. I swear I will never trust that line again!)  As mom made herself comfortable on a small chair in the waiting room, I nervously peered through the bars of my travel cage.  Rico was in a travel cage next to mine staring back at me without a care in the world. Sometimes I wish I could be more like Rico. Rico doesn't give a crap about anything except getting attention and then screaming for more attention.  But what else can I expect from a female conure that answers to a boy's name? Suddenly I heard someone call out our names.  Mom grabbed our travel cages, and we entered a small room. The door closed behind us.  A small shudder ran down my tail.  Did I hear the door lock?  No- that had to be my imagination…..
          Mom gently placed our travelers onto a big steel table.  A cute lady with a green parrot print shirt began asking mom lots of questions about us birds.  Next, the lady placed a small scale on the counter. I recognized the scale. It kind of looked like the one Mom has at home. It stays in the kitchen, and she is constantly placing yummy food on it before she eats it.  Could it be that the lady will be giving us some tasty treats?! The lady never knew this, but she could have easily become my new best friend....
          Mom opened up Rico’s traveler first and took her out.  I watched as Rico was placed on the scale.  The lady said that Rico had gained a gram or two since her last visit. Mom laughed and said that Rico had been looking a bit chunky around the crop lately.  Har har har. The lady with the green shirt and mom exchanged a hearty chuckle. Somehow I was not amused. And where the heck were those treats?
           I was next for the weigh-in. I was very hesitant to come out of the travel cage. If someone would have just produced some treats then I wouldn't have been so leery.  Well, I would have still been leery, but as the saying goes, "The Way To Jose's Heart Is Through His Crop". Give me an almond and I'm yours forever.  Or at least until someone else brings me that bowl of popcorn.
         After several minutes of prodding, I reluctantly stepped up. I was placed onto the scale, and to no surprise I was a perfect 365 grams! No chunky crop jokes about me that day, and no monsters appearing from the depths of hell either! But still no treats showing up.  Assuming we were done with this pointless meeting, I was excited to be getting back home to my food bowl.
         Suddenly, another woman glided into the room.  She was wearing a white lab jacket and had long brown hair. I like long brown hair because it is kind of like mom's. What I  didn't like was that strange thing sitting down around the top of her head. It looked like a flashlight. She looked like she was about to go cave exploring or something. What could that be for?  She discussed a few things with mom.  I heard the words “blood sample” and “vent sample”.  Vent sample?  What the?!  
          Out of the corner of my eye I saw a large towel appear into the hands of the cute lady with the green parrot shirt.  Once again a shudder ran down my tail. They were up to something. I could sense it.  Humans are very, very sneaky at times. They know parrots are intelligent creatures, and so they must use trickery to get what they want. But I was on guard that day. My birdie alert system was in full force. This bird would NOT be had!
         And then it happened. One minute I was perching comfortably on a stupid scale, and the next I was flipped upside down with the towel surrounding me on all sides. I struggled unsuccessfully as the green shirt lady held me tight. She tried whispering quietly to me, but I wasn't hearing it. White lab jacket lady began adjusting her weird looking flashlight so she could see me more clearly. As she stared intently, she made note that there was no crusted poop on my feathers. Yes, she was staring at my vent. I was mortified and embarrassed. “Everything looks great so far.” she said.  Well, I could have told her that.  I’m the one who preens down there everyday!!  My birdie ears really perked up when I heard something about checking for bacterial infections. 
        Then IT appeared.  I saw IT in white jacket lady's fingers.  I thought such torture devises were outlawed centuries ago.  IT looked like the Q-tip mom uses to clean out her ears.  Mom with her sick humor called this part of the exam the “Cloaca Swab”.  As IT drew near, I closed my eyes and prayed it was not  going THERE!!!  Several ear splitting screeches and a blood draw later, I was upright again and into my travel cage.  
       By the time I was back home, I was exhausted and incredulous. Believe me when I tell you I had never been so insulted in all my life!  Mom kept saying, “It’s okay, good bird!” over and over again. I swore then that I would never again come out of my cage. But then I saw the bowl of popcorn. Life is good.