The Vet

Hare-iette and Lisa were spending a lot of time on the phone and on e-mail, trying to come with a plan. Hare-iette was annoyed when I called her away from the phone and told her she had to help me take Tiffy to the vet for her shots. Tiffy can be a real handful when she's unhappy. Going to the vet makes her VERY unhappy.

We saw a new vet that Hare-iette had never met before. He's young, and nice looking, and loves animals. I really thought the young man was going to faint when Hare-iette, who had been sitting motionless, hopped up on a chair, extended her paw and said, "Hi Dr Conners. I'm Hare-iette."

The young doctor's mouth dropped open and he stared at her.

Hare-iette continued, "Will you take care of me if I get sick?"

The young doctor recovered enough to take Hare-iette's paw. He stammered, "Er..ah yes, I guess I will."

Hare-iette has never been so sick that she needed to see a doctor, so the question of whether to take her to a people doctor or a veterinarian, had never come up.

Dr Connors, who was still holding Hare-iette's paw, recovered enough to say, "I don't have any other patients who can talk to me."

Finally, the doctor had recovered enough to check Tiffy. Of course, by then Tiffy had made her escape. The doctor and nurse had to retrieve the growling, hissing cat from behind a cabinet.

Hare-iette remained standing on the chair near the doctor.

"Is that your dog out in the front room?"

"Yes, that's Goldie, she's a golden retriever."

"She's really pretty. I love Christmas, Doctor, don't you?"

"Yes, I do Hare-iette."

"What are you getting your kids for Christmas?"

"I'm afraid I don't have any children."

"That's too bad, I bet you'd be a great Dad. What are you getting your wife for Christmas?"

"I don't have a wife either."

"Then what are you getting your girlfriend?"

The doctor, who was trying to examine a squirming and growling Tiffy, muttered, "Don't have one of those either."

Hare-iette rarely talks to people until she knows them well. Now, I had to ask her to be quiet and not annoy the vet. She obeyed and hopped off the chair and went and sat quietly on a bench. A few minutes later I looked over at her. She was watching everything he did. From the look on her face, I could tell she adored the man.

On the ride home, Hare-iette was singing and wiggling and acting silly. Just what we need now, a hare with a crush.

That afternoon, Peter was back at pageant practice, meaner than ever. When he started to bother Hare-iette, she told him not to make fun of Santa Claus. Peter pushed Hare-iette so hard she fell down. Clover, the cow, grabbed Peter by the collar and carried him over to the water tub, dunked him in, then pulled him out, and rolled him in the sawdust and dirt. Peter screamed and cried. Miss Amelia, who hadn't seen any of this, had to take him home, again.

Hare-iette watched it all, laughing so hard she fell on the ground. Suddenly, she had an idea. She jumped up ran over to Lisa and told her, "Now I have a plan!"

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Amelia's Story
Copyright Carol Bastian, 2009
All rights reserved