Thursdays with Fergie: Table Mountain Animal Clinic

The times they are a-changin’.

This post seems to be older than 18 years—a long time on the internet. It might be outdated.

Liz Purdy, one of my Seattle-based buddies sent this email out to us:

here’s a thought i had for the dualbs: my friend molly from ohio who lives across the hall has set up a “story of the day” with her friends that are all over at different colleges. each one of her friends has taken a day and sends out a story of a funny experience, awkward moment, general college life, etc. she always calls me into her room to read them and laugh with her. i’ve gotten to the point where now i look forward to the story of the day from her friends, so…

I picked Thursday. Today is Thursday. So here goes:

This event happened about 3 weeks ago. Ben Sikora, one of my roommates, had recently gotten a kitten from Table Mountain Animal Clinic (TMAC) a local animal shelter about 10 minutes from where we live. After much debate about names for the kitten (including almost naming it Benzyl), Ben decided to call him Kitty. Unfortunately, Kitty wasn’t feeling so well and Ben had to take him back to TMAC to get put down (the vet thought that Kitty had distemper).So back to TMAC we went and we had to wait for some time because like many non-profit animal shelters, they were understaffed.
This guy comes in with his dog and two daughters, perhaps aged 2 and 5. The man probably made less than what I pay in tuition every year, which I only mention to develop a mental picture. The youngest one wore only a shirt and dipper while the elder wore a dress that had been worn many times but washed only a handful (none of which were recent). The dog was muscular, but not oversized, and was restrained only by a leash (no collar) which the man had attached to the dog by looping the end of the leash through the handle and thusly creating a simple, yet effective noose. Having only two hands, both of which were occupied with keeping the dog at bay, the man had very little control of his kids.
Ben, myself, and Sarah (Ben’s girlfriend) sat at the far corner, directly across from where the man and his dog sat. By this time, his children had wondered off directly to the man’s right to look at a half dozen cats put up in temporary cages in the lobby. The kids, naturally curious of what were in the cages, stuck their fingers in to try and pet the cats. By this time I had lost interest in what the kids were doing, turning my attention back to Ben (who was very sad, although he would never admit it, even now) and his cat. The eldest daughter let out a little yelp and my head jerked to the left to see what was going on: I caught the tail end of her jerking her hand back. The father, seeing her jerk her hand back, said something to the effect of, “See, I told you would get bitten if you kept sticking your fingers in the cage.” The girl, slightly perplexed, shook her head and pointed to her little sister. The lobby let out a little chuckle and my day was made slightly better.