Great Balls of Fire!

After a recent phone conversation, I think I might need to start taking Charlie to a new veterinarian.

Since bringing my little guy home from his "procedure," Max and I have had to pay close attention to condition of Charlie's private area. And quite honestly, I am just about through with having to look at my dog's testicles... err ...um, or lack thereof.

After two or three days of monitoring the little round, red sac at the end of his incision, I happen to notice that it had suddenly changed shape. I called for Max, who I hoped would be more of an expert in this area.

"Honey, is it just me? Or, does this thing look a little more droopy than usual?"

Max held Charlie up on his two back paws in order to get a better look. At this more upright angle, that which had seemed perfectly round now looked more like a protruding pinky finger. We both gasped at the site of Charlie's strange new appendage.

Even though the vet's office should have been closed, I dialed the number in desperation and handed the phone over to Max, who looked as though I'd handed him a pistol instead.

"What if someone's there? What am I suppose to say?"

"Tell them what it looks like!!" I declared with the most agitated of spirits.

He begrudgingly took the phone, and to our surprise, the receptionist answered the call. Max began to pose the question at hand.

"Hello, we brought Charlie Mandy in to be neutered on Monday and...well... um... Hold on. I think Diane can explain this to you better..."

Chicken shit. Max handed the phone over to me.

Still in shock over what I was seeing, I had a hard time describing Charlie's problem to the office receptionist. I finally blurted out that there was something wrong with my dog's balls. And in response, the receptionist quickly transferred me over to a veterinary technician.

The voice on the other end of the phone seemed less than thrilled to be taking a call at 5:30p on a Friday.

"Hello, this is Gwendolyn. How can I help you?" The words might have been right, but her tone was anything but customer-service friendly. Still, I wasn't going to be intimidated. My poor Charlie had developed this strange-looking deformity. I needed to make sure he was normal. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I began to described this most delicate of problems.

"It's my dog's balls. They are no longer round..."

"Do you mean his testicles?" Gwendolyn interrupted.

Sure, get all medical on me, Gwen. I can handle the lingo. After all, I watch ER.

"Ok...his testicles, then. It seems as though they've changed shape"

"Ma'am, we removed his testicles on Monday."

Gwendolyn wasn't being helpful, perhaps getting a little impatient with her hysterical client. But at this point, I was also getting annoyed by Gwendolyn's attitude.

"Yes, I KNOW you removed them. Look, all I am saying is that what was left has changed shape. It's hanging down really, really low."

"Has he been playing with it?" Gwen asked.

"Well, not all the time," I responded. "I catch him licking it once in a while, but that's nothing unusual."

I couldn't believe I was having a conversation about my dog's now-absent testicles. Still in this situation, you have to leave your inhibitions behind and go for the straight talk.

"Is he eating?" Gwen probed?

"Would you be eating if you'd just lost your reproductive organs? No, Charlie's appetite is not what it was last week. But he's acting as though he feels ok."

"Ma'am, it sounds as though everything is alright. But you can bring him in tomorrow if it will make you feel better." Gwendolyn promptly hung up the phone.

I stood there with phone in hand, not sure whether to feel angered or embarrassed. I turned to Max, my constant barometer, who simply shrugged his shoulders and walked into another room.

The next day, I still had nagging worries about Charlie's defunct appendage, wondering whether I should take him back to the vet. But the sad truth was that I didn't want to face the office staff, and particularly Gwendolyn.

I guess you could say, I just didn't have the balls.