It's a Zoo Out There
Sunday, September 21, 2008 at 21:15
Posted by Marcel Strigberger
I recently attended at a potential client's home. He was a middle aged gentleman of east European origin injured in a serious motor vehicle accident. He wanted to check me out. I was to be given a once over not only by his family but also by other members of the community, including the parish priest. As a further incentive for the house call, he promised me a piece of the best baklava this side of the Acropolis.
As I rang the doorbell, I heard a loud barking. George opened the front door and out leapt a huge German shepherd, the size of the Trojan horse. This dog seemed to have an avaricious appetite for strangers, equalling the appetite I had minutes earlier for that baklava. Fortunately for me he just sniffed me, like a runaway Hoover. I had heard that if dogs sniff you, you should hold out an open hand. I did that for a minute or so waiting for him to work his way to my hand, from my forehead.
He backed down as soon as George shouted, "Tiger, down".
I had no doubt passed the friend or foe test.
George then yelled, "Tiger shhh, the lawyer is here."
Naturally at this point I expected Tiger to appreciate the gravity of that comment and to settle down accordingly. Tiger should have been saying to himself, "The lawyer is here? Oh yeah, George is probably paying this guy $350 an hour. That's a lot of kibbles. I'll back off."
No such luck. Tiger continued running around and barking. George bellowed, "Shut up Tiger, I want to speak with the lawyer."
Maybe it was the word lawyer that did it because Tiger suddenly lunged at me again and resumed his sniffing.
I pondered as to what went on in Tiger's mind. Was he checking out my credentials, like that priest was going to? Before hiring a lawyer, have him checked out by the parish priest and the dog. It even crossed my mind briefly that perhaps the priest had a different function altogether. Maybe in the event that Tiger took a strong dislike to lawyers he was here ready to administer last rites. Just a thought.
George summoned his teenaged daughter, who came over and handed me a little doggie treat. Actually the treat was the size of a football. Vanessa said to me, "Give him this, he'll be your friend."
I wasn't sure how I was to give it to him. I sure as hell wasn't going to turn around and hike it to him on a three count. With trepidation I held out my right hand (I'm a lefty). This seemed to placate Tiger just right and he departed in peace.
We all took our places in the dining room and suddenly a new guest arrived. Out of nowhere this grey angora cat popped up and started brushing herself against my trousers. I smiled and started patting the cat. George shouted at the cat, "Go away Ginger. Don't bother this lawyer also."
This lawyer also? What method did this guy use to choose lawyers? The pet test? If Ginger holds up a card with the number 10 on it, I'm in?
I suddenly started sneezing uncontrollably. George's wife Helen offered my a cup of tea saying that should help. I asked for Kleenex. This arrived along with Ginger, who now lodged herself on my lap.
Once again Vanessa came to the rescue and removed Ginger. She was careful not to drop a large green parrot standing on her shoulder.
George continued with the introductions. He said to the parrot, "Say hello to the lawyer, Bugsy".
The bird was not too responsive. He simply flapped his wings a couple of times and remained mum. I guess he must have seen lawyers before and he had an unsavoury experience. Maybe he came up short in an estate fight. A will failed to leave him a huge legacy. Who knows?
Vanessa exclaimed, "He usually repeats stuff. Maybe you scared him."
In order to refute the allegation of parrot harassment, I tried to get the bird to talk. I said, " Hello? Bugsy? Want a cracker?" No luck. He was as silent as that Monty Python parrot. The Birdman of Alcatraz couldn't make him talk.
Vanessa departed disappointed and eventually we even got around to discussing the case. And to eating that baklava.
It's been a couple of weeks and I have not yet heard from George. Whatever will be will be. I did however get an idea for practice development. Perhaps there ought to be a continuing education seminar on how to deal with your clients' pets. Does anybody know where we can locate Dr. Doolittle?
As I rang the doorbell, I heard a loud barking. George opened the front door and out leapt a huge German shepherd, the size of the Trojan horse. This dog seemed to have an avaricious appetite for strangers, equalling the appetite I had minutes earlier for that baklava. Fortunately for me he just sniffed me, like a runaway Hoover. I had heard that if dogs sniff you, you should hold out an open hand. I did that for a minute or so waiting for him to work his way to my hand, from my forehead.
He backed down as soon as George shouted, "Tiger, down".
I had no doubt passed the friend or foe test.
George then yelled, "Tiger shhh, the lawyer is here."
Naturally at this point I expected Tiger to appreciate the gravity of that comment and to settle down accordingly. Tiger should have been saying to himself, "The lawyer is here? Oh yeah, George is probably paying this guy $350 an hour. That's a lot of kibbles. I'll back off."
No such luck. Tiger continued running around and barking. George bellowed, "Shut up Tiger, I want to speak with the lawyer."
Maybe it was the word lawyer that did it because Tiger suddenly lunged at me again and resumed his sniffing.
I pondered as to what went on in Tiger's mind. Was he checking out my credentials, like that priest was going to? Before hiring a lawyer, have him checked out by the parish priest and the dog. It even crossed my mind briefly that perhaps the priest had a different function altogether. Maybe in the event that Tiger took a strong dislike to lawyers he was here ready to administer last rites. Just a thought.
George summoned his teenaged daughter, who came over and handed me a little doggie treat. Actually the treat was the size of a football. Vanessa said to me, "Give him this, he'll be your friend."
I wasn't sure how I was to give it to him. I sure as hell wasn't going to turn around and hike it to him on a three count. With trepidation I held out my right hand (I'm a lefty). This seemed to placate Tiger just right and he departed in peace.
We all took our places in the dining room and suddenly a new guest arrived. Out of nowhere this grey angora cat popped up and started brushing herself against my trousers. I smiled and started patting the cat. George shouted at the cat, "Go away Ginger. Don't bother this lawyer also."
This lawyer also? What method did this guy use to choose lawyers? The pet test? If Ginger holds up a card with the number 10 on it, I'm in?
I suddenly started sneezing uncontrollably. George's wife Helen offered my a cup of tea saying that should help. I asked for Kleenex. This arrived along with Ginger, who now lodged herself on my lap.
Once again Vanessa came to the rescue and removed Ginger. She was careful not to drop a large green parrot standing on her shoulder.
George continued with the introductions. He said to the parrot, "Say hello to the lawyer, Bugsy".
The bird was not too responsive. He simply flapped his wings a couple of times and remained mum. I guess he must have seen lawyers before and he had an unsavoury experience. Maybe he came up short in an estate fight. A will failed to leave him a huge legacy. Who knows?
Vanessa exclaimed, "He usually repeats stuff. Maybe you scared him."
In order to refute the allegation of parrot harassment, I tried to get the bird to talk. I said, " Hello? Bugsy? Want a cracker?" No luck. He was as silent as that Monty Python parrot. The Birdman of Alcatraz couldn't make him talk.
Vanessa departed disappointed and eventually we even got around to discussing the case. And to eating that baklava.
It's been a couple of weeks and I have not yet heard from George. Whatever will be will be. I did however get an idea for practice development. Perhaps there ought to be a continuing education seminar on how to deal with your clients' pets. Does anybody know where we can locate Dr. Doolittle?
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