Kita was due at the vet on Thursday after her neutering operation on Wednesday.
We'd spent a very restless night together. She was obviously very uncomfortable, if not in pain, thanks to the squirt of painkiller she'd had during the night. I think the vest was bothering her more than anything.
When she managed to take it off during the night, I took the opportunity to remove her harness. It had seemed easier to keep it on with the vest over the top. Obviously she was much more comfortable without it and went back to sleep easily.
I felt extremely guilty in the morning as she loves going somewhere by car and was all excited by the prospect of an interesting trip. But we were going to the vet again, the source of all her pain.
For the morning's appointment I just popped her collar on. Now, Shibas do not do well with collars; their necks are thick and their heads are small... making it very easy for them to slip out of a collar. However, I figured it would be fine as she was very slow.
I was wrong.
We reached the vet and I had to park some way away. Kita was happy and complied with me lifting her out of the car and walking up the street a little way.
Then she realised where we were and with a super-quick twist of her head she was out of her collar in the middle of a fairly busy street! That did not do my blood pressure any good at all! Thankfully she was pretty immobile so I was able to grab her before she ran off.
I lugged her into the vet and got her collar back on. My heart was still pounding. She refused to walk down the corridor of doom but we got there eventually. Poor girl was petrified, naturally.
Both the vets were there and I explained how she'd managed to get out of her vest during the night.
The lady vet took one look at it and said, "I'm not surprised, this vest is the size for a German Shepherd dog!"
She added with a wink, "This is what happens when you let a man choose clothes!"
Kita's wound was checked and pronounced fine and dry. A new, correctly sized vest was found and put on a struggling Kita.
Then a syringe was filled and a nurse instructed to hold Kita tightly.
That was it. Kita gave her finest, loudest and longest Shiba Scream ever. The poor nurse looked absolutely horrified and I swiftly explained the nature of this phenomenon. Which doesn't work too well with the language difference. "No, you have not hurt her, she just thinks you're going to. Welcome to the breed!"
Injection given, we made our escape with great relief. No more visits until the stitches come out on Friday.
Back home, I popped Kita into her basket where she remained comatose for the next 24 hours only rousing to take a small drink from her bottle. Yes, she's getting a lot of attention and fuss.