Swanee...

I know I'm getting old, and I know I might just forget the teeniest thing every now and again, but on Monday I surpassed myself on the 'I'd Forgotten That Happened' front.

It was the appointment for the dogs' booster jabs at the vet's you see, and it wasn't until I walked (dragged) them in through the door and into the waiting room, that I remembered I had sworn to never bring them together again.  When you have just one dog, it's relatively east to keep them under control.  One arm has them pinned to your leg, while the other is force feeding them biscuits in an attempt to divert their attention away from the harlot of a Golden Retriever who is giving them the eye in the opposite corner of the room.

So Percy and I had muddled along quite nicely at the vet's until Reg came along.  Even then, because he was a pup, we could control him quite easily.  And then it all went paws up last year when I had the reminder email from the vet saying that both dogs needed their booster jabs.  The usual question of 'how hard can it be?' was considered and discarded, and it was a badly prepared dog owner who walked (dragged) her two dogs into the waiting room.

Now the waiting room at my vet's is rather large, although stick a couple of Labradors, four cats and a swan (I jest not) in there, and all of a sudden, it's a bit snug.  My two, not content with cocking their leg up every vertical surface, be that skirting board or cat basket, took a great liking to the swan, until it started hissing, at which point Percy decided to hide under the bench seat and shake violently.  Reg, as you would expect, decided that barking at the swan would be the best way forward.  

Last year, he still had his puppy voice (think 13 year old boy) and I'm still amazed that the windows didn't shatter.  The cats, who had been sleeping up to that point, started spitting at Reg, until they clocked the swan in the corner who by now was getting rather fed up of the blanket wrapped around its middle.  They started yowling at the swan, who moved rather suddenly.   He shed the blanket and stretched one of his wings out to full potential, shocking the surgery waiting room into complete silence (and darkness if you were the Labrador owner to its left).  Even Reg, knowing that he'd been beaten, skulked back under the seat and shut up.

So back to Monday.  As I walked (dragged) the dogs in, it all came flooding back to me.  Mercifully, the surgery was quiet, with just one person and a cat basket, and I checked in with the receptionist.  Walking across to sit opposite the cat lady, the receptionist called out to me, 'Sorry, could you and Percy and Reg sit over there, on the other side of the room'.

'Oh', I replied, grinning sheepishly.  'Our reputation has preceded us has it?'

'Oh no', she replied.  She pointed to the ceiling where two new signs hung.  'Cats that way, and dogs are in this part of the waiting room'.

Never mind that.  Where will the bloody swan go next time...


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