I don't know about the rest of you, but I actually pause when someone asks me about my profession. Each and every time I'll wage a cerebral war with myself on the pros/cons of telling this complete stranger about what I do, because 75% of the time the next words will be, "So I have this dog...".

Thursday, April 19, 2012

should've seen it coming...

"Thanks for squeezing us in this morning doc, April at the front desk said you guys were swamped. Hank here had really bad diarrhea this morning and I didn't want to have to wait until this afternoon."

"No sweat, I wouldn't want to wait very long with an Old English Sheepdog having diarrhea all over the place either, especially with all of it sticking to that long hair. What time did all of this start?"

"Oh, about 10 days ago."

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