Charlie’s Epic Showdown at the Claremont Veterinary Clinic

Joe Lyons • August 22, 2024

It was a day like any other, or so I thought. Little did I know, my Son was about to witness the most dramatic showdown in veterinary history. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Charlie, my sweet, peace-loving Shih Tzu, was happily trotting along as we made our way to the Claremont Veterinary Clinic. We were just going in for some routine shots and bloodwork—simple, right? Well, not today.

The moment we stepped into the clinic, Jeremiah could sense a change in the air. Charlie’s nose twitched, his eyes narrowed, and a low growl rumbled in his throat. Something was brewing, and it wasn’t good.

As soon as they entered the exam room, all “H” broke loose. The vet, armed with nothing more than a tiny syringe, approached Charlie with a smile. But Charlie wasn’t having it. No sir, not today! With the speed of a ninja and the ferocity of a lion, my tiny Shih Tzu transformed into a whirlwind of barking, snapping, and growling. The once-peaceful clinic was now a battlefield, and Charlie was leading the charge.

The vet techs scrambled like they were in the middle of a tornado drill. “Code Red! Code Red!” someone might as well have shouted. In the chaos, the vet’s stethoscope flew across the room, a clipboard clattered to the floor, and a box of cotton balls exploded like a popcorn kernel in the microwave.

Charlie was relentless, defending himself against what he clearly believed was an invasion of his personal space. It was so bad they had to bring out the heavy artillery—the dreaded muzzle. And let me tell you, getting that muzzle on Charlie was like trying to wrestle an octopus into a sock. The vet techs worked in tandem, one holding Charlie, another trying to calm him with soothing words, and a third carefully slipping the muzzle over his tiny but very sharp teeth.

Finally, with the muzzle in place, Charlie was subdued—though he still gave them the side-eye, like a prisoner plotting his escape. The shots and bloodwork were completed in record time, and we were free to leave the war zone.

That night, back at home, Charlie curled up on my lap, his eyes big and soulful, as if to say, “Dad, I may have acted out today, but you wouldn’t believe what they were trying to do to me.” He looked so innocent, like a kid who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. How could I stay mad at that face? I gave him a kiss on the head and said, “That’s okay, buddy. Just… maybe don’t do that again.”

Charlie yawned, as if to say, “No promises,” and fell asleep, dreaming, no doubt, of his revenge, when they next meet.

*** All suspects are innocent until proven guilty in a court of law***