Miracle Bob

For once, I had little to say this morning and I had to take the cat to the vet for her jabs first thing, so that’s where I’ve been.  For once, I was early.  How an earth that happened I cannot say.  Anyway it gave me plenty of time to soak up the waiting room atmosphere.

I looked at the animals on the noticeboard needing a home and wished I could take on the 3 yo German Shepherd called Sheba, but was definitely not tempted to lay out £250 for a Jack Russell pup.  I studied the animals in the Waiting Room.  There was a black Cocker Spaniel that seemed rather nervous about his date with the vet.  I smiled at the Jack Russell with pointed ears that begged to go back in the Consulting Room when he had just been set free and I made friends with a gorgeous golden Cavalier that stared deep into my eyes and cleverly distracted me from her terrible homemade haircut (not that I can talk).

Then a couple came in, without a pet.  The woman looked a bit fragile.  They had come to collect their dog they said.  Ah Miracle Bob the Receptionist said.  The woman’s eye watered a bit and she had to lift up her glasses to wipe it away.  The man, being stoic, poked himself in the eye putting on his glasses.  Clearly Miracle Bob had been through something pretty major.

Then Bibi was called and, unprofessional Owner that I am, I said to the Vet: Oh I was really hoping to see Miracle Bob.  The Vet was not familiar with this beast so he kindly sated my curiosity and looked him up on his computer.

Bob the Border Collie has been in the hospital here.  He came in after a total and unexpected collapse.  It turned out he had ruptured his spleen due to a massive growth in it.  He’s one lucky dog as it was touch and go.

Well, by now I nearly wanted to leave my poor Bibi to get on with it and go back out to the waiting room to catch sight of this Bob, but of course I stayed.  Bibi was really good.  She is a good little cat, healthy if somewhat greedy.  Then we were released.  The Vet said, perhaps Miracle Bob is still out there.

Well he wasn’t.  It was even better than that: they were still waiting as the Vet finished delivering her medical update – Bob needed to come back tomorrow and he looked a bit tatty and dirty.  I only caught the tail end (haha!)

Then came Miracle Bob, in his Elizabethan plastic collar.  He was not a regular sort of Border Collie in black and white.  He was a tricoloured with more brown than white.  He was quite shaggy too and not at all wiry in build.  His lady Owner crouched down to greet him and then, then Bob started to tell us all about it.

He didn’t howl, he didn’t bark or whine, he made this rather strange noise somewhere between them all, but he was definitely saying:

“God it’s been awful Mum, but look I’m alive!  Alive!  Oh but it was awful.  Can we go home?  I’m alive!”

Then he noticed his rapt audience, hanging on his every word and turned to greet us too.  I don’t mind saying I would have loved to stroke Bob, tatty as he was, but it would have been an imposition.  So I just smiled at him and wiped away my own tear.  I didn’t have to lift my glasses to do that as my dog Rudi chewed them up months ago.  Did I mention that?

Posted on June 30, 2010, in Cats, Dogs, Music and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 13 Comments.

  1. I love the people you meet in the vets. There are those that don’t want to talk to you or their pets, and there are those who are so besotted with their pets and the upcoming ordeal that they don’t even notice you. And then there are those who just want to talk. Last time I went, with a profusely vomiting Tramp, there was a lady there with a rat. Now she wanted to talk. She wanted to tell me all about her rat, Chalky – well, it was actually her autistic son’s rat. She’s got one of her own, but this one was her sons. She also had Jack Russells (bit of an odd combination – bit like keeping mice and a cat). But she thought Chalky’s days were up, and was cheerfully telling the whole waiting room, and Chalky, this fact. He had a growth you see, and she’d had a rat with a growth before that had died, so she’d told her autistic son that it was curtains for Chalky that day as she packed him off to school. And all she did, when she wasn’t holding court, was talking to Chalky quite cheerfully saying ‘so this is it for you Chalky. Time to go to the pearly gates’. When she was called in she went ‘well, this is it, off to get Chalky put down’. Anyway, ten minutes later she walked out, still with a very alive Chalky, and some tablets for the lump on the tail. She seemed almost disappointed that she wasn’t carrying a dead rat home for the ceremony that she’d planned with her son while waiting for the bus, and was more concerned with how she was going to explain Chalky’s reprieve to her son who had made a cross and everything. Nowt as strange as folk, innit?

  2. So very true 🙂

    I liked that tail too.

    Go Chalky \o/

  3. Stephen Foster

    Perhaps like this?

    “And on the third day Chalky rose, and lo, he was truelly the son of Zog.”

    Ever since Dr Gerhard found out what was making Dylan a bit lame by locating the relevant pad (by pressing the precise spot and making Dylan scream and hit the ceiling) he is the biggest wuss in veterinary experience and will not pass the door. They have to come out into the car park now to give him his booster jabs.

  4. I am just trying this (what I thought of myself)

    O O
    Go Bob \o/ Go Chalky

    It’s a cheerleader – not a juggler

  5. Oops it’s neither – damn that formatting!

    Dylan does right. Make them work for those fees.

  6. The Adventures of Dr Gerhard and (insert Dylan’s full kennel name here).

    Sounds like a bestselling Manga book!

  7. Stephen Foster

    The Adventures of Dr Gerhard and Ruweis Ghali

    U r not wrong.

  8. Now this is really depressing – I once was at the vets in Stoke Newington and a completely distraught man came in with a bloody cat which he had just run over with his own car taking the kids to school. I am in a cheery humour today.

    On a positive note, I am happy to live more or less opposite the vet and go and do a spot of puppy bothering in there when I’m buying cat food or simply passing by. They also park up the Haxted Kennels van there so Mia and I can see all the dogs on their pick up/drop off on a Friday morning.

  9. P.S> WBWC – this reminds me that I have got your dog biscuits here and I notice you bought them down Trago. I haven’t eaten them yet

  10. You sound like a dog stalker FW!

    No wonder James Herriot’s books were popular.

  11. I am most definitely a dog botherer. I will get my soft coated wheaten some day…

  12. Only a Barnes dweller would buy their cat food from the vet.

    Only a Devon dweller would buy their biscuits from Trago Mills and leave them in Barnes.

  13. It’s like being a missionary spreading the Trago word 🙂

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