The rabies vaccination was available from 9 to 1. We got there about 9:30 and the line…
…had already doubled up on itself.
We were there for well over 3 hours, the line of vehicles ever so slowly creeping forward at very irregular but always widely-spaced intervals. Whatever was going on up there, nobody was in a hurry.
Tobie couldn’t decide whether this was distressing or the most exciting thing that had ever happened in his young life.
But finally he just decided, hours after L and I had, that this was boring and lame and whoever had come up with this idea deserved to die.
Turns out that Neighbor L knows the dog rescue lady who organized the affair. Apparently response to an event is highly variable: Last time they only got five takers. This time there were hundreds.
Finally – finally – we got near the head of the line. It was just us and a Honda Pilot. We weren’t sure which of us was first. Turned out it was the Pilot. Turned out the people in the Pilot were some sort of backyard breeders with SEVEN GOLDEN RETRIEVERS.
I hate Uncle Murphy so bad.
At last Tobie and I were called into the little building where the shots were actually administered. The paperwork took longer than the shot. Tobie was a VERY good boy. But not even very good boys enjoy the sight of a veterinarian with a hypodermic in his hand.
We’ve been home 2 hours and he seems to have dedicated the rest of the afternoon to napping. I’m thinking of joining him.
Naps are always good. Surely y’all didn’t stay inside the car the entire time you were waiting; I mean, Tobie needs to (safely) explore the new and exciting smells ‘n stuff. Our four-legged furball got a rabies shot and paid zero notice. Of course, she is a cat and naturally deals with these unfortunate and unavoidable situations with superior aplomb compared to a mere canine. No offence meant, Tobie.
Turns out Murphy is a bitch. I think it’s “trans” or something.
Sleep well.
What did Tobie think of the vet “taking his temperature”?
Or didn’t they bother to do that?
No, it was just a quick little shot and out, not a medical exam.
Well, at least the job’s done.
Joel, consider yourself lucky, I worked at a zoo where every three years we had to get a 3-dose Pre-exposure Prophylaxis (PrEP) schedule of shots in case someone got bitten by a rabid animal.