"Helping"

It's very important to me that the nurses don't get all the crappy jobs whilst the vets swan off to do something less grotty, so I've always tried to muck in with the floor cleaning, pee mopping and assorted stinky jobs. 

Unfortunately I'm just not that good at it.... 

...here's a message I was sent by one of the nurses

When you don't know what's wrong...

......investigate everything

Awkward mistakes

     I stuck my head around the consult room door and saw one of my memorable clients, a short neat gentleman in his 80’s in a greying shirt and maroon tie, navy bib and brace overalls with the hems turned up, a navy workman’s jacket, and a great big pair of shining black tackety boots. He wore a tweed cap, perched slightly askew, not far above his glasses. He could have been Fred Dibnah’s brother, one of the many elderly engineers and coal miners we served in our little Northumbrian practice. When he was thinking about something, he was would compulsively take his cap off and put it back on again, over and over. He kept a pack of quite big but very well behaved dogs in tow despite his advanced years. He was still working, gardening for “old ladies”

I could see he had his new German Shepherd pup with him whom I had given it’s first vaccine two weeks ago. It was time for the second injection. 

“Adolf!” I shouted joyfully. No response. I tried again, a bit more tentatively. “Adolf?”.
Who, me? said Mr Elliot. “That’s not iss name, pet”.
“But you told me a fortnight ago – a German name for a German Shepherd”

“Aye hinny, that’s reet. Hans. His name is Hans”