I was on vacation last year when I ran into Dr. Skeptic. He recognized my name and had an important question for me. "How
do you think up all those crazy things you write about?" he asked.
I was shocked. He thought I invented my subject matter? Crazy things happen to me all the time. I expect it. Why? Because
I'm a veterinarian, and veterinarians tread water in a sea of buffoonery.
ILLUSTRATION BY RYAN OSTRANDER
I said as much to Dr. Skeptic, but he didn't agree. He said such things were not commonplace where he practiced. Really? Where
was this guy from? The only state I know of where veterinary practice is uneventful is the state of unconsciousness.
Dr. Skeptic, however, seemed very much awake. I was perplexed by his description of an orderly world, but all I could do was
assure him that my column was like the Dragnet television series—the incidents were true, but the names had been changed to protect the innocent.
Case in point: Mrs. Parsley and her cat, Goldy.
"Doctor, my poor kitty has been ailing for a month," Mrs. Parsley told me not long ago. I've been doctoring him at home, but
it isn't working. He gets sick a lot, and I can't afford to run over here like this all the time."
A glance at the record indicated that I had indeed seen the cat several times. Three visits since 2004, to be exact. Her history
"Last month he threw up once. I dipped his feet in yogurt right away. I heard that would stop any poison if it got into him
somehow. It must have worked, because he stopped vomiting the next day. But ever since then, he hardly eats. I make his food
at home. It's a combination of alfalfa sprouts, tofu and vitamin C."