The Kindness of Strangers

As you know,  humankind has left the taste of rancid squirrels in CL's mouth-- and believe me, I know the taste of squirrels-gone-bad.  You bury them for too long?  Well, let's just say your body can't digest the corpse without screaming, "get me outta here!" at 2 AM.

But, I digress...so, humankind's response to CL's disability?  Not warm-and-fuzzy.   You can imagine her response when she found a growth on my face.  Yep, it went something like this...

gawddamnmotherfunckingicannotbelievethisyoupoorbabythissucksthissuckthissucks

(blurry picture of growth above)

After the 20 second meltdown?  CL picked up the phone and called the vet.  She knew she could call any of her friends, and they would jump in and immediately help.  CL wanted to try the "independent route," first.  She knows that her friends are amazing-- but, finding a solution without always depending on friends gives them a break and reinforces CL's independence.  So, here's what happened when she called:

CL:  You know I'm disabled, in a wheelchair, living alone and with no reliable transportation.  Sugar is due for her annual check-up and shots, and I just noticed that she has a mole on her face that is rapidly growing and causing her discomfort.  Can you recommend a way to get her to your office?  Maybe you could do a home visit?
VET:  Let me check.
(pause)
VET:  We don't do home visits,  we know someone who does-- but I know Sugar is a shy dog, and would prefer to be seen in our office by familiar people, so hold on and let me ask around...
(long pause)
VET:  Our office manager lives near you.  He can take Sugar for the appointment, and bring her back.  What day and time works best for you?

Seriously.  The vet office did not say "tough luck, find another vet."  They found a solution, and a complete stranger offered to help.  CL had stranger-danger worries, but I could have told her, "not a problem, chick-a-dee, the shyness is under control and the vet is a reliable, trusted entity."

Guess what?  I was right. As soon as the office manager arrived, CL introduced me, pointed to his car, and said the magic word: "Okay."  I jumped and settled in for the ride.  The vet kept CL informed during the day, and the ride home was uneventful.  The best news?  The growth was not malignant and I am in perfect health.

See?  No worries. They even refused to let CL pay for gas. I could have told her that humans were not all bad-- there are kind and trusting souls in this world, if you let down your guard and give them a chance.  

 After all, CL is the human who taught me this lesson in life.