Saturday and it’s off to the vet to get the staples removed. Riley – never to be left behind – hops into the vehicle and we help Catie into the back. It’s time for a vehicle that’s closer to the ground.
It doesn’t take Riley long to determine that we’re going in the wrong direction of the park. Catie’s really not that surprised. She’s been to a vet’s office so many times in the last couple of months that she’d be astonished if that wasn’t where we were headed.
At the office, we meet Floyd – the world’s biggest lab. A 118 pound monster of a dog with a head the size of a bear cub who whimpers if his dad scolds him. And we meet Daisy – a dainty, diminutive Golden Retriever, who had a stage 2 tumor removed from her leg and is there to see the doctor because she won’t stop panting.
“There were a lot of staples,” the technician says, bringing Catie out of the back room.
And it’s time for the park.
It’s a dreary, dull day. One of those Alberta winter days where the world is monochrome and it’s hard to tell the ground from the sky except for the dirty piles of snow along the road.
The weather is irrelevant to Catie. She doesn’t have pain. She’s at the park. She sniffs and snuffles and rolls in the snow, picks up Riley’s discarded tree branches. She visits with Patrick, a lab cross who likes to chase Riley. Our neighbour shows up; Catie spots her long before we do and she runs.
It’s a good day.