One of the dogs ate my diamond earring.

Last night at eleven o’clock, the phone rang while I was already at the clinic seeing an emergency.  Since I was waiting for a lab result, it was no problem to answer (as opposed to being in the middle of sewing up a wound, when it would be a problem to answer the phone).

"…uh…" [This is never a good way to start a phone call, in my opinion.] "…uh…, we have two dogs and one of them ate a diamond earring and we don’t know which one." [Which dog, or which earring?]  "Ma’am, that is something that will show up easily on an X-ray.  We are open Saturday morning and we can X-ray the dogs to find out which one has eaten the earring and where it is in the body.  Then I can tell you what treatment will be needed, if any. He may just pass it without difficulty." "Well, now, how much would those X-rays cost?" [How big is the diamond? We’re price-shopping emergencies at eleven PM?] "Ma’am, I’m here with an emergency right now.  If you’ll call our receptionist in the morning, she can give you an itemized estimate."

We’re still waiting for the follow-up.  I suspect they found the earring… outside the dog. 

"Outside of a dog, a book is man’s best friend. Inside of a dog it’s too dark to read." [Groucho Marx]

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