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December 17, 1996

During the nightmarish weekend after Raffi had been hit, after 3 days in the emergency room, we undertook a drive to a vet college in Mississippi. While we were on the road, my two younger kids were spending the night at my mother's house.

Gambi would have been perfectly fine at home. All of the most vulnerable chewables are already gone. But my two youngest decided to come home and bring Gambi to my mother's, which hasn't been basenji proofed for 16 years.

I guess it's Murphy's law. Sometime during the trip to Mississippi, Gambi was inadvertantly locked into the guest bedroom where she dug a good sized corner out of the carpet, beaver-chewed the door, and gnawed her way thru to the springs of a chair that had belonged to my great grandmother. Like your sister, my mother is one of those special step-basenji-parents. She didn't even tell me about the damage until a few days ago.

We took the pups for their first shots at a Pet-Vac clinic held at a local store. (Only $90 for the whole lot). Coincidentally, the presiding traveling vet happened to be the same Dr Worley who was on duty the night we brought Raffi in. She's now our regular vet.

One of the shoppers cooed over the puppies

"Oh! How cute! How much?"

"Have you had a basenji before?" Josh asked.

"No."

"$1000."

She looked a little confused, and left. He's a quick one, is my son.