I had to take Mina to the vet this morning to get something checked out and decided that I should finally act on a decision I’d made some time ago, which is that we should switch veterinarians because a) the one we go to isn’t that close to our house and b) the one we go causes me unnecessary guilt, like the time Cecilia had low blood sugar (what in the name of God were they doing checking her blood sugar, anyway?) and the doctor was all, “Did someone forget to feed you guys breakfast this morning?” and I looked at her, and then looked down at the baby strapped to my chest, and then looked at the two dogs I rescued from the streets and from certain euthanasia, and I was like, “You know what? I did.”

So I called the new vet I’d picked (which, by the way, is affiliated with our old vet, thus slightly deflating my victoriousness), made an appointment, and then called the old vet to have them fax over the dogs’ immunization records. And what I told the woman who answered the phone was - a lie, admittedly - that, “we love you guys but this other vet is just so much closer to our house.”

And do you know what the woman said to me? She said, “Well, you obviously don’t love us enough.” Like, not in a cute or affectionate or joking tone, but in a real, honest-to-God, mean way. Can you believe that? The good news is that the new vet is awesome and Mina didn’t even try to bite anyone and in the examination room there was a picture of a dog (”goggy!”) with glasses on that Nora couldn’t get enough of. Clearly I made the right decision.