Charlie Changed

As Ernesto noted, Charlie is a challenge.  And an escape artist. I have started referring to him as Houdini, because the dog  seems to wiggle out of any rope, collar, or leash we constrain him with.  Charlie's antics have caused some issues on the farm, as Ernesto mentioned.  It's possible that we could be grandparents in two months, with co-responsibilities to find homes for up to 14 puppies.  Charlie's escape antics are one thing, but his loose ways with the bitches is quite another.

It became clear that  Charlie needed the chop.

Since we picked him up I've been ready to remove the pesky sac of skin that hung awkwardly from between his two hind legs, but Ernesto convinced me to give him some time to adjust before we stripped him of his manhood.  I might have pushed harder, but the vets (also males) suggested a brief adjustment phase.  And given that he was anemic, some strength seemed necessary to undergo the operation.

BUT, after Charlie kept us up all night last week whining to go outside, we'd had enough.  I took him on Wednesday to the vet for his big day.  Upon entering the office I proudly announced our purpose:

"Yo quiero que mi  perro no tiene sus huevos (as I made two circular shapes with my hands and hung them from my crotch) nada mas (followed by hand gesture of scissors cutting something)!   El ha escapado muchas veces y  el ha hecho exitoso con las hembras en la finca que estan en un estado para tener bebes."

The rough translation of this would be: "I want my dog to not have his ball any more.   He has escaped many times and has made successful with the female dogs on the farm that are in a state to have babies."

Then I had to tell the vet that Charlie has erlikia and ask him whether he could undergo the operation given the medicine he is taking.  The vets only concern was that if Charlie were anemic, he might bleed uncontrollably.

My heart raced, as did my mind. The vet in San Jose said Charlie was anemic, but we'd been giving him iron for several days and noticed significant improvement in his appetite.  I told the vet that I thought he would be fine.

So I held Charlie still while the vet gave him a tranquilizer.  Then Kaia and I walked him downstairs to the operating room.  There, I held Charlie again while they shave a section of his front leg to give him the sedative.  Five seconds later,Charlie sank in  my arms.  A minute later, we'd lifted him onto  the table and the  vet had tied his little legs to either end of the table and we were staring squarely at the two little sacs that I hoped were the source of many of our problems.

"Ok" I said with anticipation, "Vamos a cortar los huevos!"  "Let's cut the balls!"

The vet looked at me as if I were slightly mad - probably both because of my eagerness to strip Charlie of his goods, and because of my crude Spanish.  But then he started, and I watched.  It was pretty amazing.  After I asked for a play-by-play of the process ("Esta bien, yo estudio salud reproductivo  - it's okay, I study reproductive health"), the vet proceeded to point out each teste, the epididymis,  the vas deferens - it was awesome.  The whole procedure took less than a half hour, but Charlie was incapacitated for a while longer.  He got pampered at the house, and when our landlord's son came over with some friends, they all looked at Charlie  with pity, and me with slight contempt.

But I don't mind.  I did it for the bitches on the farm.  I did it for Bob Barker.  I did it for my sanity.  I did it for the tranquility of our house.  I did it for Charlie.  And yes, I absolutely did it for myself.

Of course, the vet stressed over and over to me during and after the procedure that we wouldn't see instant results.  The testosterone already flowing through his body would continue to control him like that second pesky brain men can't seem to tame.  So I still have hope that Charlie Garbanzo will calm down, chill out, and be.

And, in case any of you were worried about aesthetics, the vet made clear to me that he didn't mutilate Charlie's little sac.  He made the incision above the sac--something that can apparently only been done in dogs.  In all other animals, the incision has to be made to the sac. So Charlie still has his little pouch.  Just removed of all its goodies.

Amen.