Today I Played the Old Lady Card

(re-run)

When your rescue dog needs her teeth cleaned because no one has brushed them for six years, you can bet it will be expensive. As in $650.00. Ouch!

I’d put it off long enough. She’d even broken off an incisor at the gum line and didn’t want to eat. I knew it was time to get it done.

But $650.00? That’s a big chunk of change, especially right now, when the stock market is wildly fluctuating from day to day and disposable masks are a newfound expense. I know, I know, I could be wearing a cloth one, but they bug me. I like the hospital ones better. But the little ear elastic loops break after  a few wearings and then you move on to the next one.

Getting out the door this morning was no easy task. I couldn’t give either dog or myself breakfast and even picked up the water bowl – vet’s orders. I managed to slip the non-tooth-cleaning dog a treat as I shut the door. Daisy had already run to the car.

She was shaking like a leaf by the time I got to the vet. Never mind the woman who changed lanes into me as I swerved to get out of her way. She waved me an “I’m sorry,” and I thought, Really? You almost screwed up my whole day, not to mention Daisy’s appointment.

I opened the car’s backdoor to get the dog out, and she jumped into the cargo area. I opened the back hatch, and she jumped into the backseat. I opened the back door, and she jumped into the driver’s seat. I finally got her out, made the phone call to let the desk attendant know I was there for an appointment, and she waved me in.

We were both masked up. She asked me to weigh Daisy – 21.5 pounds, better than last week when she weighed 23 pounds and I got a lecture about overfeeding her. The annual check-up and rabies shot cost $91.00 last week. It has been an expensive dog month.

So today, when they told me the price of the teeth cleaning, I asked if there was an old lady discount.

“Just how old are you?” the desk attendant asked.

“65,” I said for the first time ever out loud.

She put me on hold while she consulted with the vet. Then she came back on.

“We can take off $65.00,” she said, “and we’ve marked your chart for the senior discount going forward.”

“Thank you!” I said.

The one perk of getting old.

Hey, baby, I’m not proud. I’ma gonna take it.

It’s the only perk of being 65, besides Medicare.

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