"I Feel Like Paris Hilton!"

In the modern metropolis, there's no place more down-home than the waiting room at the veterinarian's.

Everyone cowered as the Spanish-speaking owners of the muzzled, large, oafish, out-of-control bloodhound took a minute to wrestle him through the tiny waiting room for his fifteen-second inoculation visit with the vet, then took another minute to wrestle him out. Poor dog: he just wanted to be friendly with the yappie dogs packed in there, but talk about a bull in the china shop!

Meanwhile, everyone wanted to take a look at the precious Chihuahua I had brought in. To escape the attention, the shy dog buried his head into the crook of my elbow. The vet helper brought the chip reader over, which came up negative. I smiled at everyone in the waiting room and said "I feel like Paris Hilton!"