A woman brought a  very limp duck into a veterinary  surgeon.  As she  laid her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and  listened to the bird’s chest.

After a  moment or two, the vet shook his head sadly and said, “I’m so sorry,  your Duck Cuddles has passed away.”

The distressed owner wailed, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I  am sure. The duck is dead,” he replied.

“How can  you be so sure,” she protested.

“I mean,  you haven’t done any testing on him or anything. He might just be in a  coma or something.”

The vet rolled his eyes,  turned around and left the room, and returned a few moments later with a  black Labrador retriever. As the duck’s owner looked on in amazement,  the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination  table and sniffed the duck from top to  bottom.

He then looked at the vet  with sad eyes and shook his head. The vet patted the dog and took it  out, and returned a few moments later with a cat.

The cat jumped up on the  table and also sniffed delicately at the bird from head to foot. The cat  sat back on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly and strolled out  of the room.

The vet looked at the woman  and said, “I’m sorry, but as I said, this is most definitely, 100%  certifiably, a dead duck.”

Then the vet turned to his  computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill, which he handed  to the woman.

The duck’s owner, still in shock, took the bill.”$150!” she cried, “$150 just to  tell me my duck is dead?!!”

The vet  shrugged. “I’m sorry. If you’d taken my word for it, the bill would have  been $20, but with the Lab Report and the Cat Scan, it’s now  $150.00.”

And . . .

 

“THE BLOND AND THE COW”

A blond city girl named Amy marries a Colorado rancher.

One morning, on his way out to check on the cows, the rancher says to Amy:

‘The insemination man is coming over to impregnate one of our cows today, so I drove a nail into the 2 by 4 just above where the cow’s stall is in the barn. Please show him where the cow is when he gets here, OK?’

The rancher leaves for the fields. After awhile, the artificial insemination man arrives and knocks on the front door.

Amy takes him down to the barn. They walk along the row of cows and when Amy sees the nail, she tells him, ‘This is the one right here.’

The man, assuming he is dealing with an air head blond, asks, ‘Tell me lady, ’cause I’m dying to know; how would YOU know that this is the right cow to be bred?’

‘That’s simple,” she said. “By the nail that’s over its stall,’ she explains very confidently.

Laughing rudely at her, the man says, ‘And what, pray tell, is the nail for?

The blond turns to walk away and says sweetly over her shoulder,

‘I guess it’s to hang your pants on.’

( It’s nice to see a blond winning once in awhile.)

Now I warned you I had a very odd sense of humor–not my fault, but the fault of all my daffy friends who keep sending this stuff to me!

 

While Al was visiting his brother in upstate New York, I somehow held the fort down being ill the whole time. No it was not Al sickness, although I did miss him; it was some weird digestive problem which had exhausted from a heaviness in my gut and just general feeling of unwell, that I got nothing done but taking care of dogs as quickly as I could and just sleeping the rest of time.  I could not pass my bed without crawling into it.  Still not up to full energy. Last night Al and I had a very romantic date at a sleep clinic; I was reevaluated as I have been on a CPac for several years now, but this was Al’s first evaluation.  I have kept telling him he had a problem, but no–just as he did not have a problem when he hit his very hard head on a rock last fall only to have emergency brain surgery for a rather large, soupy clot and fresh bleeding in February. So I just made this appointment and dragged him in.  I am doing fine, still need the CPac but doing fine. My darling husband, on the other hand, has severe sleep apnea–he stopped breathing for almost a minute several times.  So we will both soon be making beautiful music with our CPacs.  I am writing about this as sleep apnea causes all sorts of different symptoms: depression, irritability (you go, Al), fatigue (that’s me) to name a few, and can lead to or exacerbate high blood pressure, heart disease, diabetics, and the list goes on. So if you have any inkling that you may have apnea, usually loud snoring is a sure sign, see your doctor and go through a sleep clinic.  That is Dr. M’s word for today.