I just made an appointment to take Fizgig to the vet Saturday morning. He took a tumble down the stairs the other day and knocked his shoulder out of alignment. He doesn't act like he's in pain, so I figured it could wait until Saturday, since I can't really take time off work to take him in for something less than a life-or-death emergency. The receptionist freaked when I told her what the problem was, and made me talk to the vet.

The vet made me feel like a bad mother for waiting so long, and put unbelievable pressure on me to bring him in right away. When I explained that by the time I got off work, drove the 45 minute commute home to get him, and then drove the 35 minute commute back to the vet's, it would be time for them to close. She suggested I leave him over night. He already has major abandonment issues, I am not leaving him over night.

She tried to convince me that this is an emergency, even though he doesn't so much as wince when I touch his leg. He just limps a little when he runs. My little sister pulled her arm out of socket once when she was a toddler, her pediatrician made it out to be no big deal. So I'm a little hard pressed to think it's a bigger deal for a dog than for a two-year-old human being.

So he's going to the vet Saturday. I'm a bad mother.