A column by Brenda Wade-Schmidt
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I’m apparently not capable of handling two dogs and a cell phone.
On a recent trip to the veterinary, those are the only things I needed to keep track of. Typically, my husband is the one to take Tessa, 5, and Charlie, 4, for their annual shots. I can see why now. But we were in a bind, and it was up to me to do duty this year.
With the dogs leashed and loaded in the backseat of the truck cab, I set out on a pleasant drive with snoozing pups.
The plan was to take one in at a time so I didn’t have to struggle with two. The other one would sit calmly in the vehicle. But when I opened the door, both dogs barreled out, a golden followed by a mini Aussie. I grabbed the first leash and got tugged across the parking lot, all the while trying to grab Tessa’s leash while she ran around in circles like a race hound.
“Oh my, she’s a busy one,” a woman exiting the vet office said, while calmly holding her pocket-sized pup and trying to give me a hand. Once I had both dogs by the leashes, the woman kindly opened the door for me so we could blast across the waiting room to the front desk.