S went to the dentist yesterday. She x-rayed the teeth that were growing in behind his baby teeth, and got right to the point: Three of the bottom front baby teeth REALLY needed to come out. Ideally, all four should. When? Well, we can do it now, or we can do it later. The sooner the better. And we were there, so what the hell?
So S left the dentist yesterday afternoon with four fewer teeth than he walked in with. Or, technically, not...since he did walk out with them. They just weren't in his mouth anymore.
He did great. The novocaine shots were pretty hard on him. I don't even know what the point is of that numbing gel they use, except to give the patient a false sense of security...it sure as hell never worked for me. Novocaine shots HURT, and that's a fact. At least he was sucking down happy gas like his life depended on it. He got pretty loopy on it, so I guess it probably helped some. But not a lot, because he kept yelling as the needle started to go in, and they couldn't finish because he couldn't hold still. My poor baby...I had such a hard time not crying for him. I finally told him to squeeze my hand, which he was already holding, as hard as he could instead of yelling. That worked, and they were finally able to numb him.
That was the worst part for him. After that, it was smooth sailing. For dinner, he had a bunch of different soft foods, and today and tomorrow, I'm staying home with him to make sure he gets plenty of saltwater rinses, but he's totally fine. He's even got a school friend over right now, which is great...he's a really nice, polite boy, and is welcome over at our house any time. The thing is, though, his mother doesn't even KNOW me, and she's willing to just drop her kid off over at my house for a couple of hours? Didn't come in for coffee, didn't talk to me long enough to at least pick up whatever crazy-vibes may be present...is that the norm? Because no way in hell would I just let S go hang out at the home of some random kid he knew from school without knowing anything whatsoever about their parents. Call me overprotective if you want.
However, I digress.
Anyway, S did fabulously with the tooth extraction, and the Tooth Fairy paid up BIG TIME. This evening, we're off to buy him a new game for his Nintendo DS. Which seems to have pretty effectively wiped the whole Novocaine episode from his mind. Thank god.
Lucky, our foster dog, also had body parts removed from his person yesterday, which I'm pretty sure he would also have much rather kept. They were considerably lower on his anatomy, though. He's also recovering really well, and - thank the Holy and Almighty Powers that Be - he's GOING TO A NEW HOME TONIGHT!!!!!
I have put considerable effort into not getting attached to this dog. Ok, maybe not considerable, because I frankly haven't really had to try all that hard. He just annoys the crap out of me. He's a good dog, but I like them calm, intelligent and mature. Lucky is not the quickest fly on the shitpile. Also, he's a total fucking spazz. I've never seen him move without running FULL TILT. Doesn't matter if it's 50 feet or 5 inches, he is compelled to sprint it. With the number of times he's run into the dining room wall, I can't believe he hasn't gone completely through it. Then, too, he's a hardcore, card-carrying butt-sniffer, which I can't stand. If there's a reason I'm more naturally inclined to cats, it's probably because of the butt-sniffing thing. You will never see a cat trying to catch a whiff of ass. Lucky, however, would walk around with his nose firmly lodged in my crack for hours at a time if I let him.
So on he goes...to greener pastures, and friendlier buttcracks. Maybe being neutered will calm him down some. I hope so, if only for his new family's sake.