Our Roadside Rabies Vaccine
Hey, friends!
This past couple of weeks has been an absolute BLUR. I'll start with a fun fact: Dogs in the U.S. are only vaccinated for rabies once every three years, but dogs emigrating to Denmark have to have been vaccinated for rabies within the past 12 months (but not less than 21 days before flying!).
So as I read this fun fact on Sunday, July 9th, I casually glanced at the dog's vaccination records and realized his rabies vaccine, though current, is due in 2024...which means he was vaccinated 2 years ago...
...do you see where this is going?
I calculated that we'd be OK as long as I could get him a rabies vax by Thursday, July 13th. I set a reminder to call the vet on Monday, July 10th, and you know I called as soon as they were open.
No appointments.
I begged a little. They told me to call their sister clinic.
No appointments. All the vets are on summer holiday like the Danes, it seems.
The sister clinic told me to call the humane society.
No appointments.
Gaaaaahhhhhh! This is fine. Just go to work. This is fine.
At work, I complained to Amy about my life and instead of "Awww, that sucks"-ing me, she jotted down a phone number on a sticky note and told me to call this old veterinarian in Spokane that makes house calls.
This is the true beginning of the story.
I went to my desk and called the number. The message said something along the lines of, "Hello, if you've called Critters Care at 509-922-1022 and received this message, please leave a voicemail and we will return your call. If you called XXX-XXX-XXXX, were redirected to this voicemail, and are a friend or family member, please ask yourself: Could this have been a text message?! Again, if you are calling Dr. Clark at Critters Care, please leave a message."
Wow. But also, yes. You tell 'em.
Anyway, the lady from the voicemail called me back and said Dr. Clark would not drive to Idaho, but I could come to his home with my dog. Call back at this number after 5:00 p.m. If I do go to his house, don't knock on the door. Dr. Clark is very hard of hearing. He won't hear me. I need to call when I'm outside. Got it.
At 5:13 p.m., I gave it a go. The phone was promptly answered by...well...by an old man who was a little gruff and brief as heck.
"Dr. Clark."
"Hi, Dr. Clark! My name is Lindsey Barber and I need to get a rabies vaccine for my dog before Thursday. He's current on his vaccine, but we're moving to Denmark and they require it within one year, but my vet couldn't —"
"Bring him by. Today or tomorrow."
"Oh. Well...I guess I'm not really prepared to bring him in today..."
"Tomorrow then. Call me after five. Ninety dollars."
"...Oh! Oh my gosh...thank you!"
"Yep." [He hangs up.]
So on Tuesday, I took Harrison to swim lessons and called Dr. Clark on the way home.
"Dr. Clark."
"Hi, Dr. Clark. I called yesterday about getting my dog a rabies vaccine..."
"..."
"My name is Lindsey Barber and I'm moving to Denmark and — "
"Yeah. Bring him by in the next hour or two."
"OK...he is current on his vaccine, but — "
"Bring his other vaccine record if you have it. You have the address?"
"No."
[He gives me his address.]
"Thank you! See you soon."
[He hangs up.]
I took Harrison home, picked up the dog, put the address in my phone, and took off. We drove to Spokane Valley and parked on the side of the road near the house. There were several possibly disabled vehicles parked around the property and bars on all the windows. A sign behind the bars on the door said "No Soliciting," and I was reminded that I was not supposed to knock. Han and I stood on the edge of the road while I called Dr. Clark. He didn't answer, so I started moving up the concrete walkway toward the door to give knocking a try. My phone started ringing immediately.
"Hello?"
"This is Dr. Clark. I missed a call."
"Hi Dr. Clark, it's Lindsey Barber. I'm outside with my dog."
"...Yeah. ...What are we doing?"
"...The rabies vaccine? For my dog?"
"I'll be out in a minute."
I waited a few minutes and he finally shuffled out. He was wearing some slip-on house shoes and had pulled on a blue veterinary smock top with a DVM logo embroidered on the chest. It was pretty wrinkled and was open in the front so his WSU polo was visible. He carried a silver case that was flaking on one side. He walked past me and the dog to the trunk of the nearest sedan and opened it up, placing the case in the trunk and doing something I couldn't see. He asked me a few questions about Denmark and shook his head about the 1 year vs. 3 years rabies vaccine thing, then he stood up straight kind of suddenly.
"First thing's first."
He walked to a different car and opened the back door, returning with a big dog biscuit for Han. He held it out, but Han wouldn't take it.
"He doesn't want it?"
"He gets nervous when he goes to the...vet...and he doesn't usually eat treats until later."
He handed me the biscuit and I put it in my bag for later.
"Hold the front end."
After it dawned on me what he wanted me to do, I awkwardly knelt down in the gravel as he walked around the back of the dog. I bent down like the vet techs do and held him, and by the time I felt like I was doing it right, Dr. Clark was done.
He retrieved his case, shut the trunk, and walked back to the house. He sat on the stoop and started filling out the rabies vaccine form. As he wrote, I thanked him profusely for being available when I couldn't get in anywhere else. I told him how he had taken a huge weight off my shoulders and that I was incredibly grateful. He stopped writing to express his disdain for the fact that no one would take two minutes out of their day to give the dog a rabies vaccine.
"I'd get up at 2:00 in the morning to do this for someone."
Up to this point, I had been a little nervous about the entire situation, but as he continued filling out the form and chatting with me, my anxiety eased. He was really selfless, kind of funny, and knowledgeable. He made sure I had an appointment with my regular vet for the international health certificate papers and verified that I knew the proper timelines for submission.
"All right. The good news is: we got your rabies vaccine taken care of. The bad news is: it's going to be $20,000. I'm trying to retire soon."
I laughed and told him I had $90.
"Well, that's a good start. It's actually $105 today."
Did he quote me $90 on the phone? Yes. Did I pay an extra $15 without arguing? Absolutely. Sure, he provided a service no one else would in my moment of need, but more than that, I'm at the point in this move where my desperation greatly outweighs my desire to conserve our savings.
I bent down slightly to shake his hand.
"Keep the grip!!"
I tightened our handshake and leaned backward to help him up from the step. He wished me luck, I thanked him again, and we parted ways. Han devoured his dog bone in the backseat of the truck on the way home and I checked another thing off my list.
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