The past few mornings have been so cold.  I can't really explain it but I have an inexplicable urge to gather food and look for a cave. I am also filled with such energy in the morning.  I go out, do my usual business, and then I have to run three full laps around Bea while she finishes her business -- it always takes her awhile.  When she's finally done, I chase her for another two laps.  If it wasn't for mother dressing us for work, I think I could run like that for hours.
There's definitely a busy energy at the clinic these days.  Both of my parents are at the clinic all day now.  They used to take turns watching over the clinic in the lazy days of summer, but the winter energy must be driving them too.  Mother spent her day in the no-awake-dogs-allowed room, removing inner parts from the sleeping young patients.  Father kept busy meeting new pets and visiting with old friends, mostly for happy visits today. 
There was a scary sad occurence right around lunch time. Every other Thursday the entire crew sits down and eats their lunch directly in front of Bea and me.   They don't share any of their lunch with us, they just eat it right in front of us.  They gather and talk back and forth at each other while they eat.  This Thursday, the meeting was about to start when Patient Pam announced "That was just my husband on the phone.  Our neighbors dog was hit by a car and he sent them straight to us.  They'll be here any minute."  What happened next was like watching ants on an antpile once you step on it. People were scurrying in every direction -- one got the breathing tubes, one set up the tube for in the arm, one laid out blankets, one turned on the humming table for pictures.  A few minutes later in came the crumpled package, a round Dachshund named Beau.  Beau seemed to be holding his body in one position, not wanting to move.  Mother looked him over and started barking out the orders.  Soon, every part of little Beau was being evaluated.  "Oh, no. This is a problem," father announced "I don't think he has any feeling in his back legs."  Sure enough, when Beau was helped to stand his back legs just folded limply under him.  The black and white pictures confirmed what my parents where worried about.
"It's his spinal cord," mother explained to Beau's worried family, "the car broke one of the bones in his back.  A specialist might be able to help, but he may be paralyzed for the rest of his life."  Beau's mother could barely speak, and water was streaming from her eyes when she made her arrangements with mother.  She didn't want to see Beau in any more pain, and so my mother helped Beau go to the Bridge. 
As quickly as the clinic had sprung to life, things slowed back down.  Mother's helpers put all of the machines away quietly with their heads down.  It seemed as if each person was thinking of a furry friend that they would hate to say good-bye to. It wasn't long before mother was giving me and Bea a big hug.  I couldn't help but think of Beau running out of his house this morning, enjoying the cold and not realizing that it would be his last romp. I think I'll chase Bea for four laps tomorrow.