Loot!

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I hear that in the 1960s, kids who went in for check-ups got lollipops.

By the 1990s, sugar had been exposed as a health hazard, so pediatricians started handing out stickers to their young patients instead.

I gotta tell you, those old-time docs got nothing on mine!

The other day I went in for a routine Bortedella booster. Mom waited patiently in the lobby as way more time than necessary passed. Finally, the veterinary technician brought me back to her.

“Administering a shot doesn’t usually take so long,” she apologized. “But we all wanted a turn to cuddle with Scout.”

My membership in VCA Care Club meant there was no charge for the vaccine, but Mom didn’t know that. As she approached the front desk preparing to pay, the receptionist asked, “Does Scout like to play with balls?” She waggled a mini-tennis ball before me as Mom considered whether to take it.

“We know Scout likes to wear bandanas,” she said. (Apparently, they read my blog!) “Maybe you’d prefer a bandana?”

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“Orange or blue?” her colleague asked me.

“Oh, give him one of each,” the first one said. “And a ball.”

I came home with a bushelful of loot — so much I hardly remember the shot! Now that’s what I call good bedside manner.




A Really Good Chair

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This is another one of my favorite places: the leather chair at Jack’s house! It’s super comfortable, there’s almost always someone sitting in it when I come over. Usually I’m so excited to be at Jack’s, I can distract myself for a little while, but when everyone gets up, I seize my chance and jump on. (It’s okay that I wasn’t invited, Jack’s house has different rules).

The rotating chair gives lets me see the entire room with minimal effort, I can keep my head down and see all the guys who come over to play. And while they’re laughing and playing and talking about sports, I like to smell the scents that have sunken into this old leather chair. Leather holds smells really well, so it’s like reading a guestbook!

My Lucky Day

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My friend Ewa visited last weekend. You can’t imagine how much I love her. When I see her coming toward the door, I’m practically in tears with delight from the thought of her!

When Ewa comes, I almost don’t mind so much that Mom’s gone. She takes me on walks, she cuddles me, she talks and talks and talks to me... sometimes in Polish, which I don’t happen to speak, but I know she’s saying nice stuff by the tone of her voice.

Sometimes we go to see the elderly Polish lady that Ewa volunteers to visit. It makes me happy that I can make her smile. Sometimes I just sit on her lap and hope that life is a little better because of our visit. Ewa speaks to her in Polish so I am kind of in the dark, but I can tell they like each other. They might even love each other.

I know that Ewa loves me, and I love her, too. As much as I hate to see Mom pack her bag and go, I am so grateful for my time with Ewa!