Annual checkup day. We're at the vets by eight. One of those grey then sunny then grey again days that can't decide whether it's going to rain or not. Bob and Sophie are to get their injection and kennel cough booster before their trip to the k-e-n-n-e-l-s next week.
Bob is the first in. Bob hates going to the vets. He's well behaved in a masculine '' if you're going to murder me do it quickly '' way. He sits bolt upright on the examination table resigned to his fate. Sophie watches him go.
Then it's her turn. There is a moment of pandemonium as Bob leaps up and Sophie dismounts.
While we wait Bob stands rigid in the back of the car. He can see his sister through the plate glass door of the surgery. He doesn't take his eyes off her for a second.
Bobs devotion to his sister is something that even now we find worthy of note. Is this a PON thing ? Or, are all brother and sisters like this ?
Sophie loves going to the vet. She can be the undisputed centre of adoration. The vet is happy that there's no problem with either leg that's been operated on. She trots happily back to the car. An emotional reunion follows. Emotional on Bobs part. Less so on Sophie's. The family diva greets Bob with her ' don't bother me you big oaf ' yelp.
A trip to the little bakery by the vets for a baguette and some croissants . We don't venture to this part of town very often. That doesn't stop the teenage girl behind the counter from slipping some choux pastry to the angelic duo. The girl is rewarded by a kiss from Sophie and a lick from Bob.
So passes another annual 'dog chore'. An event too unimportant for a diary but too important to go completely unrecorded.
This is how the first female staff at Kew Gardens dressed a hunderd years ago :https://twitter.com/kewgardens/status/593686668881862656
9 comments:
On the brother and sister thing - a friend of mine had Westie siblings, Flora and Phoebe, who always seemed fond of each other, sleeping curled up together etc. and had never been apart. But when Phoebe died, age 6, after being run over by a car (on the A93 near Ballater), Flora, who had previously been ever so slightly moody and jealous, acquired a sunnier temperament, and one could only conclude she preferred basking in the undivided attention of her owner. Different breeds, differ characteristics?
Cheers, Gail.
PS Love the gardener's outfits. The watch chain is a particularly nice touch!
Those gardening outfits look very practical, ideal for climbing ladders and trees.
Good to know that Sophie's legs are fine. Our first Lab. loved going to the vet, and was madly in love with the head veterinary nurse. He'd gaze at her from afar with a daft smile on his face, and would sit quietly, until it was his turn. When she called him, he'd jump up and nearly pull my arm off to get to her. Of all the dogs we've had, he was the only one who actually enjoyed the visits, the rest have had a similar attitude to Bob's, and one always tried to do a runner as soon as he saw where we were !
How many handicapped parking places does the vet have?
Looks like a charming part of town.
Glad Sophie doesn't associate the vet with pain after her ordeals.
Dear Bob, certainly he's concerned about Sophie's vet visit. Her surgeries, her pain and confinement . It seems she's put that all behind. Bob remembers.
Was Kew attempting to discourage female employees or did the wearers consider these outfits quite liberating?
Mr. Bob is truly the "watchful" keeper of his flock. (nothing goes unnoticed; especially his diva sister)
We're also happy it was a good report with Sophie's legs. Injections and all, it will be a perfect day!
Bob's watchful concern is a wonder. A nice hurdle to have cleared with the injections behind you.
Injections. Hopefully, that will be the end of Vet's visits this year. We must be provincial as that bakery fare is more attractive than the fancy shop.
If it was a hundred years ago, my guess is that the women were working there because the men were fighting in France. There must have been many such places that needed workers and so were willing to let women in the door. Sort of a precursor to Rosie the Riveter, perhaps.
Bob, the handsome family fellow. A gem.
Very happy it all went well.
x
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