All Mixed Up

“I’m sorry, I forgot…what’s his name?”

“He has two,” came the reply. “He’s part chihuahua and part terrier. Elliott is the terrier part and Nacho is the chihuahua part.”

“Clever! Does he answer to both?”

“Yup!”

The black pooch with long ear fringe sat on my lap while his twolegs looked at paperwork and typed on the computer.

“Don’t worry—he doesn’t have any now,” he said, “but last fall he had two ticks on him.”

Inside my own head—Worry? What? Why?

“Yeah—couple of vet visits at a couple hundred a piece.”

Inside my own head—You must be joking!

I’ve pulled dozens of ticks off our dogs with my fingers. Never once have we made a trip to the vet for a tick.

“Oh—so sorry to hear that,” I said. “Poor Nacho…uhhh…Elliott.”

Inside my own head—Fragments!

I didn’t feel any need to advise or share my experience.

Do you allow people to sort things out for themselves?