Dr. Dink has a dog. His dog is a laborador mix who's been trained as a therapy dog and wears his cute little yellow vest every day. He's black, with big brown soulful eyes.
I see Dr. Dink once a year, long enough to tell him Yeah The Meds Are Working Everything's Great.
This time, Snooger (dog) came back into the office with us and curled up on the couch with me. I reflexively started patting Snooger's head and belly. He ended up on his back with his head on my lap, sound asleep from belly rubs.
Dr. Dink glanced up from my chart and at his watch. "Well, that's taken us exactly five minutes, but I hate to disturb the dog. Tell me, then: how did you learn to hang wallboard?"
We chatted about house renovations for fifteen minutes, until Snooger woke up.