My father kept busy today running the clinic. No dire emergencies arrived which was nice.  The biggest event of the day was his first procedure.  A very large black lab dog named Flagstaff was in to have her "spay surgery". The reason she was a large black lab and not a puppy was that the man who had adopted Flagstaff had been told that she was already spayed.  No one had any reason to doubt her history until she started dripping the red syrup liquid from between her legs.  Something about that red syrup liquid makes Bea a little crazy; almost like she's remembering a previous life.  "Well, either she wasn't spayed at all, or whoever did it left some parts behind" was father's diagnosis when Flagstaff came in to have the red syrup problem investigated. 
I'd overheard mother and father discussing the case the night before.  "For your sake, I sure hope she's not spayed.  Trying to find a remnant of an ovary in that dog will literally be like finding a needle in a haystack!"
Father tried to play it cool, but the smell of fear was definitely present this morning as Flagstaff lay sleeping on the prep table getting her belly shaved.  No one was as happy as my father when he announced shortly after, "Yay!  I guess they just got the story wrong, because she has all of her parts --  or should I say, had!"
The rest of day sailed smoothly after that.
In recounting this story to the crew, father also told the story of a similar dog situation that had happened years and years ago when he worked at the Cloudy River Hospital.  That time it was a boy dog named Pat.  At father's first meeting with Pat and his family he wondered why the record indicated that Pat had not been neutered, when to look at him he clearly was.  "No we never had him neutered" Pat's family attested, "why, is he missing his parts?"  Father had checked, and checked and checked again.  He had questioned and questioned and questioned again.  "You're sure he wasn't neutered?  Because I can't feel either one of his testicles and if they never descended he should have surgery to removed the retained parts -- they're at high risk for developing cancer!"  Pat's family had agreed to the surgery, and the next day my father had gone in to solve the case of the missing testicles.  "It was the longest surgery I've ever done" he recounted "I looked and looked and looked everywhere.  I even had the owner of the clinic scrub in to look.  We couldn't find even one testicle anywhere.  As soon as we recovered the dog, I called the family and asked them one more time -- are they sure he was never neutered.  Finally they answered, 'Oh yes, maybe he was' and  I literally couldn't believe it!"  Pat was sent home, the only one who had known all along that he'd had the boy procedure done years previous.   Needless to say, father has been nervous ever since relying on what people say. 
Just listen to what the animals say, that's my motto, those humans just cannot be trusted!