My poor dog is due for his annual booster,so we open the boot of the car (MY car, husband won’t allow smelly Jim to ride in Scandanavian comfort via the Saab.) Jim leaps in, happy and excited, thinking he is going for a walk. What deceitful owners we are…..
Arriving at the vet’s, husband discovers he needs to get cash out of the ATM, so I am left to organise the dog. When I open the door of the vet’s, I am delighted to discover that there only a few humans there, and one cowering cat in a cage.
Sorted!
However, my delight is short-lived, as the door opens and in comes a large lady and a small dog. A Jack Russell. Yap, yap, yappity- yap. I struggle to pull Jim over to the other side of the reception, but he is gathering momentum, physically and psychologically.
The small dog barks and yaps away, and Jim bellows in return. Mayhem.
Finally, I get to sit down at an acceptable distance from the dog (Jeff) and his flustered owner. Oh, boy, she gets even more flustered now, as Jeff proceeds to take up The Position on the only mat in the room, and produces his insides everywhere….!
“Oh, he’s frightened!” she squeals in embarrassment, tugging the animal away from the fall-out zone.
Everyone looks at Jeff.
He is not frightened, he is a smelly, naughty, disgusting dog, baring his little teeth and poo-ing at the same time!
Jim is looking at Jeff in amazement as well. Such unacceptable behaviour!
Jeff then decides that an encore is required, and reproduces his breakfast all over the tiled area.
Mummy Jeff is beside herself now, and doesn’t know what to do for the best. The calm receptionist advises her to put Jeff back in the car, and clean up the mess.
Which she does.
Meanwhile, chaos is about to take place. Bibi the Dogue de Bordeaux is slowly emerging from the consulting room. Dear God, even at 6 months, she is immense. I try very hard to shield Jim’s eyes, so he won’t see her, he would not get the better of this bitch!
Luck is not on my side, and Jim struggles and twists, and escapes from his collar. I practically have to sit on him to restrain him. Someone has also left the door open!
Mummy Jeff is busy cleaning up the excreta with paper and plastic bags, the Big Bitch is sidling past, Jim is about to escape, and I shout that the door is open.
Sebastiano the vet now enters and glowers at the utter shambles in his reception area.
“SHUT THE DOOR!” he hisses, anger flashing from his dark mediterranean eyes,” DOG ON THE LOOSE!” (My Jim!)
Mummy Jeff is totally unhinged now, and shuts the door, just as Big Bitch and her sweet owner try to exit the premises.
There is a bit of a scuffle, there are still piles of poo everywhere, and Mummy Big Bitch leaves the vet’s apologising profusely, thinking that her dog had just made the mess!
With immaculate timing, just as another customer is entering via another door, Mummy Jeff looks up in response to Mummy Big Bitch’s apology, and cries,
“It was me! My fault!”
The newcomer looks dumbfounded, at the sight of this hefty lass, up to her elbows in poo, and claiming personal ownership as there is no dog to blame in sight!
I nearly choke with laughter.
More dogs arrive, and Jim gets even more wound up, so the receptionist advises me to go straight into the consulting room. I obey her wise words.
However, Sebastiano is not amused.
“Who said you could come in?” he demands, scowling.
“Um, your lady outside,” I mumble.
Sebastiano does not believe me, and pops his head around the door, seeking confirmation. Thus reassured, his manner changes. I am not a deranged dog owner who invites herself into vet’s consulting rooms without being asked.
“This is one surreal surgery you have here today,” I murmur……..
Sebastiano ignores me.
