Chewie's Case of Mistaken Identity

Not so happy to be at the vets office

My first visit with Chewie was rather uneventful. She was a newly adopted beagle pup from the local shelter. I remember that she was shy, scared, and very bashful. I also remember that her new parents were the exact opposite. They were outgoing, talkative, excited, and just a little nervous about their new responsibility. It seemed that all of their personal traits were exactly what this beagle needed. I thought it was a great match from the onset.

I am sure that we talked abbout all of my routine new puppy things.

The appointment for a new puppy with me is one of my longest examinations. We spend A LOT of time talking. It is a whole lot of information to talk about. I tell owners to bring a pad and a pen, and a list of questions. I want to make sure their new pup starts out on the right foot (paw), and I want the owners to leave this appointment with an armload of documents on proper pet care, goodies from our vendors with free stuff including heartworm prevention, flea & tick preventative, a brochure that tells them what we are doing at each visit and why, our clinic information, (JIC of any emergency), a picture of their new pup, microchip registration form (we microchip at the first visit, did you know dog-napping is up 43% because of the recession? microchip now! And we do it for free!), and lots and lots of advice.

I don't recall any odd discussions at Chewies first visit. It seemed to go well. I gave Chewie a kiss for being such a good dog and said goodbye. I also made sure Chewies owners made a return appointment in three weeks for their next set of puppy shots.

Chewie made it to the next appointment without any problems and things seemed to be going swimmingly. I checked Chewie's weight,(perfect, very important to monitor closely with beagles), we talked about the diet they had chosen, I checked to see potty training was going well, and we discussed the difficulty of trimming nails, (also esp. difficult with beagles). But I wondered through the entire exam why they kept calling Chewie a "him." So I finally asked? "Becuase Chewie is a boy!" they exclaimed, with a pause, a hint of criticism, and a dash of frustration. I picked her up and exposed her belly to the world. "No," I replied, "He is a She." Without pointing I flashed her belly toward them. "No, thats a penis!" (long puase and glances back and forth to each other, with some finger poiting at the area in question). Another pause, "Isn't it?" pause, this was getting a little embarrassing. "Umm," (much softer response, another uncomfortable long pause on my part. Think to myself "Try to be delicate, and don't embarass anyone!)" "No, that is definately a vagina." one more point at said anatomy.

Long pause again, more looking back and forth at each other....

Then full blown laughter! Around the room.

Now I totally understand that many normal people do not routinely look at genitalia. I understand that vet school trains us in all aspects of pet care and anatomy. We spend a whole half of a semester going over all of the species genitalia. Let me tell you, there are some interesting, (and very bizarre) genitalia out there. (For giggles look into a rams penis, freaky stuff, I tell you, then imagine being 20-something year old, in a dark formaldehyde smelling lab in the basement at 2:30 in the morning cramming for your anatomy exam and throwing that thing on your stainless steel lunch tray. Talk about contagious giggles...Ah, the crazy delirious days of vet school, fun to remember, but I assure you that I don't want to relive them).

From that moment on that day, we have become fast friends. And thankfully for Chewie no name change was necessary.