Hound Dogs and Private Lives

We took the dog to the vet. Nothing serious, just a gouge from some street dog. Our beagle is just too trusting.

While we were waiting for the vet (Here, vet wait times are like the dentist at home. But when you walk into a dentist here, they can see you right away. Go figure) a parent of one of Tim's students walked in with her young son. They made some polite conversation for a while. She wasn't there to see the vet, she just saw Tim and walked in. It's a store-front vet, like all of them here--no cozy cottage in the country for vets here. After 30 minutes, we still hadn't seen the vet, and she was still standing around, having exhausted her English and her son. In addition to being an awkward moment for everyone, she insisted on exchanging numbers and trying to invite Tim over to their house some time.

I understand that people like her are completely sincere, but surely they must know at some level that teachers never want to meet parents and kids on their own time. Make an appointment, drop by the school, write a note, send a gift, leave a message after the beep, but please don't ask me to come to your house for tea on Saturday afternoon.

And for the animal lovers, the dog's fine. She sold us a cone to put on his head so he won't lick his wound. It's healing fine, the vet even said so, so there's no way we're putting that crazy-assed thing on our dog.