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But Isn't Fluffy Family?

Hey – guess what! Cora’s got
strep throat!


Yep, we’ve had another trip to the doc, another positive
strep test – that makes the seventh or eighth positive since
January in this family (one loses count, you know). Did you know
that sometimes strep presents as a stomach virus?


Nor did I.


But I am heartily sick of writing these “poor me and my
family, we’re sick” blogs, so feel free to scroll
through the past few months and find one if you’re desiring
that. I won’t be writing any more about it today. Instead, I
want to share a story a friend of mine told me yesterday that made
me laugh, hard, and reminded me of something Maddie might do.



My friend’s daughter is about six
months older than Maddie, and quite bright and precocious. They
were home for the morning, getting ready, and as my friend came
down the stairs towards the kitchen she saw Elise on the phone.


“Hey, honey, who are you calling?” she asked
innocently.


“Fluffy (the cat) threw up – I’m calling
911.”


Let’s pause here and give a congratulatory nod to a
four-and-a-half year old who has heard and absorbed her 911
lessons. Let us also acknowledge a preschooler who loves her cat to
the point of wanting emergency medical help for that pesky
hairball. Then let’s picture the panic that would pierce
through our own hearts had we been in my friend’s place and
realized a very large social services mechanism was being called
into play at that moment, for said fur ball.


My friend dived across the room and hung up the phone, thinking
she’d truncated the call before it had gone fully through.
Alas, life was not so gracious that day, for ten seconds later the
phone rang, with a concerned 911 dispatcher on the phone.


Mary calmly explained the situation, trying to dispel the
dispatcher’s fears without making her daughter feel as if
she’d done something wrong; after all, Elise’s calm in
the face of a medical crisis – albeit a feline one of dubious
nature – was to be commended, and she’d acted exactly
as she should have in an actual emergency. The last thing she
wanted was for her daughter to hesitate in a real crisis, and worry
she might get in trouble for making the call.


The dispatcher was understanding, and told my friend she’d
put a call out to cancel the order (or whatever it is).
Unfortunately, our city is so darn on top of things that the
cancellation came too late, for just seconds later there was a
knock at the door.


Yes, a policeman was there, supposedly to save Fluffy’s life.


Once again, Mary explained the situation to the officer, who
apparently walked the fine line of complimenting and encouraging
Elise while still explaining that a hair ball does not fall in the
“dire” category. A few minutes of
encouragement/explanation later, and he was on his way.


Not only did this story make me laugh, it made me realize I gotta
get on the ball – Maddie has no idea that 911 stands for
anything but the number of the day. I can’t help but be proud
of Elise, and she’s not even my kid.


I hope Fluffy realizes what a sweet deal he’s got.

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