d.: I thought you said that you might be late today, Cal.E. What happened at your vet’s appointment.
C.: Dr. Death happened! You also said you might be late in the text you sent me. How did you get your truck unlocked so quickly after you locked your keys in it? And I thought it wasn’t possible to do that, since the truck’s driver’s side door won’t lock if the keys are in the ignition.
d.: Well, the driver’s side door won’t lock if the key is in the ignition, that’s correct. However, I left it lying on the driver’s seat. The door will lock then. I used the resources at my disposal to open the door of my truck.
C.: What resources?
d.: Working at The Human Kennel has its advantages. When I got off work and realized what I had done, I saw an inmate who works in the medical department. I knew he was in The Human Kennel for stealing a car, so I asked for his help.
C.: Weren’t you afraid he might steal your truck?
d.: Not really. He only has two months left until he is paroled. I knew he wouldn’t take the chance of not getting out. And it only took him thirty seconds to open my truck door and let me get inside.
C.: That’s good. It sounds like your day went better than mine.
d.: That’s right. What happened with Dr. Death, and why do you call your vet that?
C.: Because he’s mean! Dr. Death isn’t his real name. He does help some of the animals, technically. But he usually will rail at both the animals and the owner of the animal about the animals condition, weight, and so on.
I think he’s so mean because of his upbringing. His parents were odd people. One was a dentist, and the other the assistant. The dentist had bad hygiene, but was a good dentist, so he had a good practice. His assistant was as odd as he was, so they got along well. She wanted a baby, so she tricked him into marrying her so that she would have a family. Then, after the baby was born, he moved out of their bedroom into his “hobby room.” I think, in this century, humans call people like that “autistic.”
d.: This is beginning to sound really familiar…
C.: Okay, so I stole the story about my vet’s parents out of your book “Precision.” It does sound like my vet, though. HIs mom is his assistant, and she hovers over him and acts as if he’s the greatest thing that ever happened.
d.: Yes, I’m familiar with your vet. He is a bit odd. But tell me, how did you get here so quickly after your appointment, Cal.E.?
C.: As I said, he is always complaining about how much his patients weigh. He is very frank with the owners. He told Mom that I was overweight and out of shape. I wanted to prove him wrong, so I ran all the way here from his office.
d.: That’s over ten miles from here! How long did it take you to get here?
C.: About thirty minutes.
d.: Can you run faster than twenty miles an hour, Cal.E.?
C.: Sure, for short distances. On an unrelated note, can you lend me ten dollars, d.c.?
d.: Why?
C.: I just want to…. buy Mom a nice present for taking me to the vet today (that’s it).
(HONK) Hey, CAT! If you don’t pay me that ten bucks you owe me for the rideshare, I’ll break all four of your legs!
C.: Well, that’s all the time we have for today folks, please join us tomorrow for (hopefully) another episode of Cal.E.’s Corner. GTG, d.c.
d.: Yes, Cal.E., You certainly have got to go!
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