I’m looking forward to when writing is so ingrained in me I just wake up and do it, like brushing my teeth or washing my face. As it stands, I put it off all day and now here I am at 11:00, tapping a little something out that I will be too tired to proofread. All errors are mine. (Who else’s would they be???) But to be honest about it, the main reason I put it off is to have something sensational to report on.

However, I’m generally happy to say it was another mediocre day. One of my board members asked me today if anything exciting had been going on. I was like, “Lorrrrrd no, please don’t let anything exciting happen!” Because when exciting things happen at work, it’s costing somebody a crap ton of money.

No, hold the excitement please.

I know a little dog that had quite the capital day. No, not Chessie Pie. Although he may have, I wasn’t here for it. And he is sleeping quite soundly…..

No, it was Angela’s dog, Yona. (Yona means Bear in Cherokee. And she does look like a very lean, leggy bear). Angela has two dogs, a 100# Bernadoodle named Okra who resembles a very large stuffed animal, and the little mischief maker, Yona the Aussiedoodle. They both had vet appointments this week for their annual checkup. Okra went yesterday, and Yona’s big adventure was today. You might be thinking, “Wouldn’t it be easier and quicker to take them at the same time?” At which time, any dog owner who has owned multiple dogs at the same time would laugh in your face and then pat you on your head like a British schoolboy still in short britches.

Taking two dogs into the vet at the same time is something like a form of primitive torture. Angela did not do this, because Angela is not stupid. (And probably like the rest of us, learned the hard way). So she walks in today, very pleased to find the waiting room empty and still.

It didn’t stay that way for long.

Yona immediately commenced smelling every nook and cranny of the cubicle Angela selected to wait in. In a matter of tenths of a second, she managed to launch herself halfway across the bench divider. Yona, that is, not Angela. Yona is the smaller of two dogs, but that doesn’t mean she’s actually small. She’s about 60# of tightly wound spring. So that was a fun task, removing lots of dog from a head-high divider, while Yona attempted to communicate with a dog on the other side of the plate glass window. She was in full-scale whine and quaking all over from the sheer excitement. Luckily, the staff got them situated in a private room quickly, and the nerves abated once she had sniffed everything and everybody down.

But, oh, the mayhem that had ensued in the waiting room while they were in their capsule.

A mother and son had come in and were waiting with their two bully breeds to be checked in at the front desk. Along with about a dozen other dogs with their families.

And errrrrrrybody in the club was yelling, because the two pits were in a full on barking war, which drove all the other dogs into a frenzy. It was panic at the disco.

Now, let me tell you, this place is chaotic on the best day. They’re very busy, and it’s concrete floors for easy clean up. It just echoes and reverberates and makes your fillings tingle. The dumbest part was, they weren’t separating the dogs that were mad at each other. The second dumbest thing was, the dogs knew each other. They lived together. They’d just had breakfast together, for Pete’s sake. How do I know this? Well, the woman was informing everybody in the lobby of it, instead of tending to her charge.

In the meantime, Yona was quivering and had moved her derrière into Angela’s feet, and giving her a look like, “Get me outta here, mom. These doggies have gone craaaaazzzzzy.” And this is where I thought, ‘I’d like to write Yona’s version of events”. But now it’s too late, because I’ve done told everything. But anyway, everybody got checked in, there was no human or canine blood shed, and Yona is a wimp, because she’d acted all bold when it was just her, but throw in some noise and crazy dogs and she’s all, “Hold me, momma!” I said I would love to know how she recounted the tale to Okra back upon arrival. Okra is the most laid back, chill dog on the planet. She probably told her she dreamed it all, and it was nothing like that when she was there. You know, the tall tales of the youth, and how they get carried away.

At any rate, it was amusing to think about. Poor Yona. To come from such a quiet existence to be thrown into all that mayhem….well, it would be something to write about if you were a dog with a blog…

Love from Appalachia,

~Amy