by Midge Raymond
The vet tech’s name was Kristy, and she had a shrill, candied voice that grated on Monica’s nerves. Her husband, Louis, was the one who usually took the dog to the vet.
“Oh, poor baby,” Kristy crooned as she took the dog from Louis’s arms. “What happened to you?”
“She had a seizure,” Louis said. He started to follow them into the back, but another tech intercepted him.
“If you can just fill out these forms,” she said, “we can get started on treatment right away. What happened exactly?”