Chris and I just got back from picking up sweet Thea the dog’s ashes and figuring out where to donate her copious medicine chest. Whom did we see at Bryker Woods Vet but the one and only Governor Goodhair, in a red (nice) RunTex shirt and navy wind pants. Apparently, being the governor of Texas has even less requirements than we knew. Rick was sweet talking the women behind the desk (”Bye, gals. Take good care of her for me!”) before he he walked into the waiting room where we were standing at the counter. I guess Anita’s put him in charge of veterinary care.
Anyway, I didn’t say anything, but I did turn my purse around so Chris Bell’s eyes could shoot deathrays of intelligence at him from my little Bell for Governor button. I figure even Rick could guess that we weren’t supporters since we didn’t say, “Good luck, Governor,” or “You get them wetbacks, Rick!” while he was chatting with our vet Charlie (who seems to be very close to the Guv). Then again, maybe I should have made it a little clearer for him, like, “I didn’t take the dog whose ashes I’m finally picking up to be put to be euthanized on the day that she ended up dying in her sleep because I was too busy having a giant party trying to keep you from being our fucking governor any more, Mofo!”
So, I left the vet feeling a little disappointed in myself. But then Chris told me this story, which I now share with you:
Chris was standing up at the counter in the waiting room. It’s flanked by two doors that lead to the exam rooms. There are counters on the other side of both doors, where you pick up medicine and pay your bill once your pet has been seen. So, the counters a like this: |_|, with the side counters visible from the waiting room only if you’re standing at the perpendicular counter. While he was standing there, one of the women who works in the office tells a woman paying for her dog, “Yeah, that’s the governor,” as he was walking down the hall.
The client replies, “Quick, anesthesize him!”
So, maybe Chris Bell has a chance.
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