Dipping in the pocket of her raincoat

An eventful day at work. The morning shift included a woman who turned up randomly with her dog to see the vet a full 20 minutes after the vet should have left, but luckily we'd been having a cuppa and a gossip so there wasn't a problem. Within 10 minutes the dog had been referred to the nearest eye specialist (an hour's drive away) with the owner in utter shock. Two days ago the young (3½ years) terrier cross was fine - today it's blind in one eye and the other is affected. Tomorrow it has to have the blind eye removed and is on medication to try to save the other. Primary Lens Luxation is hereditary - don't believe those who tell you that crossbreeds don't suffer from hereditary conditions. That's total tosh.

In the afternoon another woman burst into the waiting room in a panic, asking for a vet to come out to a dog she'd run over in xxxxx Road. I live in xxxxx Road - my automatic response was "What sort of dog?" - not the question she was expecting. On being told "A spaniel" I could cope (phew, not mine!) and all went smoothly from there. (Not a great prognosis, apparently.)

I'm emotionally drained.