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I took Yoshi for his yearly check up at the vet on Saturday. I tried to prepare him for it earlier in the week by letting him know gently that a vet visit was in his near future. You have to break things gently to him. But by Friday evening he started to sulk around the house, as if he knew he was going. I think he may have figured out that V-E-T spells vet.

Yoshi loves car rides, but somehow he knows when that one car ride isn't going to the park but the vet. He sulked in the back seat, and when I put the window down for him to stick out his head -- his favorite car activity -- he snuggled up to the door and just sort of sat there, unenthused with ears down.

Yoshi really doesn't like going to the vet. Over the years, I feel he's gotten more dramatic about it. He's gotten to the point now where right before we hit the doors to the vet, he will spread out all fours and freeze, which means that I have to pull 63 pounds of him. It's quite a sight.

Once he's inside, he gets impatient. Our wait this week was 15 minutes too long and Yoshi kept tugging at his leash, trying to head for the door. I spoke to him in hushed tones and pet his ears, which usually calms him, but he just wanted out.

Luckily, the doctors at his vet are so sweet. They fed him peanut butter on a stick to distract him during his exam, which was a big help. He kept getting so shy and sheepish though. At one point, he was hiding under my legs and burying his head in my thigh. It was a traumatic 60 minutes for him. But we did get some good news. He dropped from 70 to 63 pounds! I rewarded him with a belly rub when we got home.

By the time we pulled into the garage, he was all smiles and so happy to be home. So was I. We both needed a nap after that ordeal.