No Meds

(Ron) Me and the guys were at the café, eatin’ lunch and swappin’ lies,
and listenin’ to our local veterinarian philosophize. It’s not medicine;
it’s management, the old vet said to me. He was goin’ on about the bad
cases that he’d see. He made the point that medicine couldn’t fix a
situation when it was underlying management that caused the complication.
He said these cowboys expect me to do a miracle fix and remedy their
management with cheap antibiotics. It’s not the medicine; it’s management
that needs to be changed. And then they wait too long to get a vet call
arranged. These ranchers are so tight, the old veterinarian said, they
don’t resort to calling me till the critter is half-dead. He got so
involved in the comments that he’d say that he didn’t notice when the
boys began to drift away. Bob had to make a phone call. Jim needed a
tractor part. Max went to help his cousin cause his pickup wouldn’t
start. So it was just the vet and me when the lunch bill came to pay. I
said I got no cash. Looks like you get the bill today. Hey wait said ol’
Doc. This isn’t good. It is no fair. Everybody ate here, each one should
pay his share. As he kept spouting protests about getting stuck with the
bill, the waitress said calm down, Doc, just take a chill pill. Oh no, I
spoke up, cause I’ve learned from this event it’s not medicine Doc needs,
just better management. Happy Trails.

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