The time was right. It was Friday, it was January 22, it was 10:30. The car had started. The dog, dragging me by her leash, jumped in the car, and looked pathetic as I put on her car seatbelt. Yes, my dogs wear car seats when they travel with me in the car.
The trip was exciting, barking at bicycles, dogs in other cars, children running down the sidewalk. All was well until I pulled into the vet’s parking lot.
“Oops, I’ve been here before and I ain’t going again.” Suddenly my 16 pound weighed 16 tons. Struggling, we got inside where my reluctant, resisting dog suddenly became the welcome committee. We stopped to greet and chat with four big dogs, friendly, glad-to-see-you dogs. We sat down to wait our turn.
The vet came out. “How’s my girl?” talking to my dog. “Let’s go.” And off she went. Leaving me to struggle up and bobble down the hall alone.
Inside the exam room the vet was sitting on the floor, the dog sitting at his side, listening to every word, tail wagging in agreement. “How about clipping your nails?” the vet asked, clipper in hand. Up went one paw, then another. Checked the ears – “This one is deaf.” Checked the eyes – “Cataracts you don’t need.”
Suddenly we were on the way home – two treats, one for the patient one for the forlorn dog left at home.
The vet is a magician and his magic works every time. My dog is a wonder and often surprises me. And I’m left to pay the astronomical bill … worth every penny.