Today things were mostly back to normal. My dad had things flowing at a steady pace. We got the update that Reggie, and his mom, were able to sleep last night, and that he had eaten a good breakfast too.

Downy came back in to have some of the left-over procedure strings removed from his former boy parts. His back end looked much less swollen and according to his mom, he's been eating well and feeling pretty good. I'm just glad that cat won't have to spend another weekend at my den!

Mother also wanted me to tell the story of “Comebackhere”, the little black dog that wandered in the clinic today. He trotted right in and started to make himself at home, literally. He jumped up on the bench, barked a greeting to everyone and then proceeded to try to mark the front desk. “They call me Comebackhere because I like to run away, and my parents think by saying it over and over that I'll go right home. I have so many places to mark and things to sniff, I just can't stay around the den!” Comebackhere told anyone who would listen. Sweet Sally and Dancing Debbie thought he was “just adorable”. “Who do you belong to?” they asked, as if expecting him to answer. Sweet Sally ran back to the treatment area and returned with the round beeping device they pass over dogs backs to find out who they are. Sally waved the machine over Comebackhere and proudly annouced, “Oh, good. He's got a microchip, so we can get him right back home.” Dancing Debbie started talking into the number machine but soon had a disappointed look on her face. “The microchip is linked to the pet store that closed down last year. I can't believe that whoever owns you didn't register your chip.”

Me and Bea both have the “chips” somewhere over our backs. I don't know how it got there, but whenever people have questions, Bea and I are the ones to show the visitors how the chips work. They don't hurt, and now I can never really get lost because my chip will help me get home. Of course, I'm not one to run away to begin with. Bea doesn't really run away either, but mother is afraid that “Bea could get lost in our own backyard”!

So Comebackhere left with the nice man that had brought him in, but Dancing Debbie got the worried look when he said that if the owners weren't found he was taking the little black dog to the pound. From Debbie's expression I knew that the pound was not a place a little black dog wanted to go.
So mother wanted me to tell this story and have everyone register their pets microchips; it just takes a minute and can save your furry friends life.