I got a phone call yesterday that had me all sorts of confused.
“This is Dr. Richardson calling,” the voice on the other end of the line said when I answered.
“What’s up, doc?” I replied, and immediately had to bite my tongue. Because…
All the while, I’m scratching my head, trying to figure out who Dr. Richardson is. Now, it just so happens that my company has partnered with the regional medical center to produce a new quarterly health care magazine and I am heavily involved in the content process. A day earlier, I’d traveled up to the Spearfish clinic to interview an Orthopedic Surgeon for an article on winter sports injuries, so I assumed this was another doctor from the same organization. Until he said, “I’m calling about the urine sample you dropped off yesterday.”
Oh, great!
Wait a second.
The what now?!?!
I’m pretty sure I’d remember peeing into a cup if I’d done so. I assumed ol’ Doc Richardson was barking up the wrong pee and had misdialed, except for the fact that he’d called me by name.
“I’m sorry,” I said, trying to be as polite as humanly possible. “But who the hell are you?!”
“Dr. Richardson,” he answered. Well, duh. That much I knew. But then he went on to add, “A veterinarian with the animal clinic. You dropped off a urine sample for your cat yesterday?”
Suddenly, it all made sense…except for two key points:
- He could have led off with that crucial bit of information!
- I’m sorry, and I mean no offense to veterinarians, but doctor? Really?
(In all fairness, I learned later that yes, veterinarians are doctors, and you don’t even have to elaborate by adding the word animal before their title or including an asterisk after. Veterinary medicine is simply their area of specialty. Huh. Learn something new every day!)
Now that I’ve offended veterinarians everywhere, maybe I should change the subject.
Because I had an interview in Spearfish, and it was the end of the day, and fall foliage is at its peak, I decided to take a slightly longer way home through Spearfish Canyon. I mean, I was right there. It would have been a crime not to.
I came for the autumn colors, but was treated to something even more impressive.
Though there had long been rumors of their existence, I had never before seen mountain goats in Spearfish Canyon…so when I spotted a trio on the side of the road, just a few yards away, I was pretty surprised.
Unfortunately, a lot of other people were just as surprised, so there was quite a crowd on the side of the road. The goats got skittish and took off for the cover of some trees halfway up a hill.
Most of the gawkers grew bored and drove off, but I hung around, figuring they had to come out at some point, right? Sure enough, they did just that…
…and proceeded to scale the sheer cliff face. It was an incredible sight to witness. I can’t believe how agile those guys are, finding the tiniest of footholds to climb up the side of a mountain. A few times it looked like they were going to lose their footing as they slipped, dislodging rocks and dirt, but they were pretty nimble and luckily none of them went plunging to their deaths. That would have sucked.
But it didn’t suck! They lived! And I have photographic evidence!
Hope your week is less rocky than theirs.
Mark My Words 
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