It was 21 days since the last trip to Marin and time for Elliot to return to the Marin vet.On arrival, Elliot was greeted by the office receptionist, and as we were a bit early, we were told to sit in the waiting room. However it was hard for Elliot to remain sitting, and even harder to get him to lie down. There were too many distractions.
As I struggled, a young women employee, laden with goodies, came out and began working with Elliot. She did better than I did but, although the goodies were good, the attention span was minimal. There was too much going on. So many people to check out. So many dogs he wanted to meet.
After a short wait, she brought us into a back room and told us the doctor would be in shortly. Since it was just us, Elliot lay down without being asked.
When the vet arrived, he greeted Elliot, then sat down to review his situation He was pleased with Elliot’s weight gain – no more ribs sticking out – and worked his legs.
“There was no need,” he said, “for any more x-rays.”
Then he had me take Elliot outside and walk him.
When we returned to the room, he said Elliot was fine. There was no need for surgery.
Elliot, of course, did not understand what was going on, but I was ecstatic.
A few nights later, my regular vet called.
“I just wanted to celebrate with you,” he said. “I’m so glad my diagnosis was wrong.”
