Lysol “R” Us

On October 28 we had our first vaccine clinic at the clinic. It was great. We were able to introduce ourselves to a terrific new group of pet owners who needed shots for their pets and who didn’t have a regular veterinarian.

Most other groups who have vaccine days make everyone stand in line. We decided that we wanted our folks to experience the quality of service that we have to offer so we made individual appointments for each animal. It was well worth it when we saw how good it made everyone feel to be treated with such care.

The first appointment immediately after lunch was for a hundred and eighteen pound Bullmastiff named “Spike” (name changed to protect the innocent).

Spike had a head the size of a cinder block and paws that looked like they belonged on a bull moose. Since there weren’t any other animals in the lobby when he arrived we told his owner that it was fine for him to wander around. No doubt it was a veritable smell smorgasbord as there was a dog and cat menagerie on the premises prior to his getting there.

In his excitement over sniffing all of his furry friends, he proceeded to lift his leg and mark several spots all over the room. Shew-eee. Nice dog, horrible smell. And let me tell you we are no “babes in the woods” when it comes to stink. Dogs poop in our lobby on a fairly regular basis (it’s an anxiety thing.) But this pee won the award for “oh my.”

We waited on the Lysol brigade until the owner and Spike left the building, but couldn’t do much as we had other patients arriving. Honestly can’t tell you which was worse, the smell of bionic dog pee or the smell of Lysol trying to cover the smell of bionic dog pee.

Once everyone cleared out Jacqui and I proceeded to DEFCON 1 – smell recon and elimination. And let me tell you Jacqui is no slouch when it comes to cleaning. Picture a cowboy with holsters of Lysol – she can sniff out a target at 50 feet. After a half an hour of mopping, sniffing, spraying, sniffing, wiping and sniffing, the smell still lingered. Now what?

Hands on her holsters, Jacqui exclaimed, “drop ‘em!” “Drop what?” “To your knees.” Oh crap. This was the only solution?  Reduced to crawling around, on our knees sniffing baseboards? Pity someone didn’t get this on YouTube. And guess what? I found it! You know your life has reached a new level of pathetic when you are elated to be the stink finder. Although I swear every time I pass the spot I get a faint whiff of essence of Spike.

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