My Vet: Dr Amy Poole

So today was my date with my Vet. Dad gave me the wrong name... my doc is Amy. While I was waiting, I saw this woman from the park the other day. She thought I was a whiner rider dog, or something like that. Dad had to correct her that I'm the Greatest Dane known - well, next to my hero - Gus Hansen. Amy seems pretty nice and she sure likes to pet me (actually, everyone does). The only thing I didn't like was that she'd hold my snout closed when I tried biting her. In fact, I could hear her conspiring with Dad about ways to curb my mischievous ways. Treason is in the air in my kingdom. I will not stand for it. In fact, as soon as I leave here, I may have to show Dad who is really boss - maybe I'll mark my territory.

Anyway, Amy seems really nice. She has a lab who is 10 months old and likes to chew things up. Maybe I'll get to meet him. In a few months, I'll be able to take that 60 pound runt! But anyway, Doc Amy had Dad hold me down and she jabbed me. It didn't hurt too much, but I'm may get sleepy, so she told Dad to keep an eye on me of other side effects. I feel pretty good, getting ready to doze off, actually. Oh, this little hot dog mutt started barking at me as we were leaving, I almost broke out my kung-fu on him. Dad's been teaching me the ways of the drunken dog. Seems I'm a natural. But the key to the martial arts is control, don't let others interfere with your Zen.

Off to my crate....