Midnight Tangle

In which a vet handles a late-night love knot with science, sarcasm, and a landline

Veterinary medicine: where the patients don’t talk, but the owners never stop.

This photo is of a Northern Pygmy Owl, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the story. But I like it, and frankly, the owl wanted to be included.

Back in the early days of practice, there were no emergency clinics. No answering services either—just a cassette-tape machine that listed our hours and whichever unlucky soul was on call. That night, the voice was mine.

Most after-hours calls fell into three categories:

• Real emergencies
• Things that could wait until morning

• And then… whatever this was

At 2 a.m. the phone rang.

The voice on the other end was breathless with panic.
“Doc! Fifi is tied up with the dog next door!”

(“Tied up,” in vet-speak, means two dogs are… romantically committed for the next 15 minutes.)

“We’ve done everything!” she cried.

“Everything?” I asked, bracing myself.

“Yes! We threw cold water on them, then hot water, hit them with a broom, banged pots and pans over their heads—nothing’s working! What should we do?!”

The medically sound answer:
Leave them alone.
They’ll untangle when nature decides it’s time.

But at 2 a.m., sarcasm sometimes overrules science.

“Here’s what I want you to do,” I said. “Hang up the phone. Set it on the ground between the dogs. I’ll call right back.”

There was a pause.
“…Do you really think that’ll work?”

“Well,” I said, “it did a few minutes ago.”

---

🐾 Absurd Couplet:
They splashed, they bashed, they panicked, and yelped
But shockingly, none of that actually helped.

📜 Moral:
Sometimes the only thing that needs to be separated is you from the phone call.

📣 Ericgram:
Eric’s Law of Midnight Emergency Calls: If nobody’s bleeding and nature is already handling the situation, sarcasm becomes a medically acceptable coping mechanism.