Panda, my bow-legged designer dog, ate the bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips. Two hours later, she's yacking all over the damn place, chunky bile that smells like chocolate malt.
To the animal hospital, where there are girlie girls in blue scrubs and howling dogs in the back (it sounds like a full moon). "Sit in this room," and we do. Panda's behind the scenes and the two of us are sitting quiet in this white and metal room. Then, she walks in. First, I just see her thigh-high boots, then her mini dress, and her white lab coat. She walks in, stilettos puncturing the cheap linoleum floor and... wait a second, she turns, clipboard in her right hand... and her left side's facing me... and she's got no arm. Her white lab coat is folded back neatly with a safety pin. Bless her heart. Suddenly, it's okay. It's okay that she's dressed like a major slut because she only has one arm. My heart goes out to her. And she goes through her clipboard, crossing off the to-do list. "First," she says in a professional manner, "we're going to induce vomit with an injection of Toxi-ban...then, a Cerenia injection..." and she goes on, spitting out Vet lingo and "fluid maintenance" and "fluid pump" and "fluid what-not." And bless her soul. She's got spunk.
To the animal hospital, where there are girlie girls in blue scrubs and howling dogs in the back (it sounds like a full moon). "Sit in this room," and we do. Panda's behind the scenes and the two of us are sitting quiet in this white and metal room. Then, she walks in. First, I just see her thigh-high boots, then her mini dress, and her white lab coat. She walks in, stilettos puncturing the cheap linoleum floor and... wait a second, she turns, clipboard in her right hand... and her left side's facing me... and she's got no arm. Her white lab coat is folded back neatly with a safety pin. Bless her heart. Suddenly, it's okay. It's okay that she's dressed like a major slut because she only has one arm. My heart goes out to her. And she goes through her clipboard, crossing off the to-do list. "First," she says in a professional manner, "we're going to induce vomit with an injection of Toxi-ban...then, a Cerenia injection..." and she goes on, spitting out Vet lingo and "fluid maintenance" and "fluid pump" and "fluid what-not." And bless her soul. She's got spunk.
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