Poodles

Busier than fleas at a flea market, that's what mom said the clinic was today. Fluffy was back for more of the medicine that goes through the tube into her leg.  She's been here everyday this week, though you would hardly know it, she never makes a noise.  Dancing Debbie and Sweet Sally are always oohing and ahhing when her bandages are changed too, so I think she must be getting better.  Too bad, I think I might miss her when she doesn't have to come here anymore.  Somehow, I don't get the sense that the feeling is mutual.

We also had a brother and sister family stay with us too.  I think they are related like me and Bea are; just meant to be together.  The younger one, Taco, was a high spirited, tail lifted, prancing white poodle who pretended to be tough whenever his parents or sister was around.  Alice, the much older sister, walked in with a stiff upper lip, knowing full well what a visit to a clinic like mine usually involves, and willing to just get it over with.  She had very little concern for Taco's worries, and tried to pretend that they weren't related. 

Alice was here for "testing".  I have learned over my year at the clinic that testing means having red syrup taken from you, over and over and over again.  I don't know why they can't just do all the testing the first time.  Alice was the model patient, every one said so, but Taco refused to take her lead.  He was absolutely convinced that his presence at the hospital was some sort of mistake.  When he first entered his apartment, he howled, "There must be some mistake.  My dad wouldn't leave me here.  Not here.  I don't see any of the hair cutting tools, or my shower tub, or anything.  I know there's some mistake".  Taco carried on this way for some time, the whole while being disowned by his older sister.  Then when Taco had to get his pinch medicine, he continued to hold out hope, staring longingly out the front door.  "My dad will be here any minute.  Maybe that's him now.  I think I hear him coming.  He wouldn't leave me, I know any minute now he'll open that door."  Taco even continued after getting the sleeping pinch, although still hopeful his energy started to fall.  "I know my dad.....my dad is coming....I feel sleepy but I have to stay awake for my dad....(front door opens)...dad is that you?  See I'm still awake dad!"  I guess Taco just continued his thought process the whole time getting his teeth cleaned, because as soon as he woke up, he could barely even stand and he started again, "See dad, I'm awake, ready to go when you are" . 
So in the midst of Taco looking for his dad, we saw four healthy pet visits, with lots of toe nails flying about.
A new friend of mine, Cookie, had to stay for the day because after she got one of the small pinches years ago she got sick, sick, sick.  So mother had Cookie stay for the day and gave her three pinches in addition to the "Rabies" pinch.  People math must be different than dog math, because three is more than one, and I would have thought Cookie would have got three times as sick.  She was fine though.  Cookie even did tricks to make mother and Dancing Debbie laugh. 
"Dad.... is that you?" we would hear every time the front door opened. 
A long-bodied dachsund came in with a sore neck, a shaggy golden dog came in with a sore ear, and a fuzzy looking Shakespeare-like dog came in panting, and acting real thirsty.
"I'm over here dad, I'm awake, don't worry about me, I'm ready to go..." Taco would chime in.
Finally, at the end of the day, Taco and Alice were reunited with their parents.  I admit, I expected a big reaction when Taco realized that he was actually going home.  But instead of the jumping and kissing I had expected, Taco seemed to just want to head out the door.
That's when we finally heard from Alice, "He does this everywhere we go.", she explained, "it's how he gets whatever he wants.  Poodles... they can be so dramatic".  I could be wrong, but I swear I caught a wink from Taco as he pranced out of the clinic.