Ebola

This is the Ebola virus. I took this picture with a scanning electron microscope that I keep in the bathroom. Don’t ask where I keep the Ebola….

I was woken the other day out of a blissful sleep to the words that a man fears the most. Dianne woke me and said, “I think the dog has Ebola”. My response was, “Ok, ok honey, and my overies are killing me. Can we go back to bed now?” No, really she said. I think he is going to kill us with some strange disease that he picked up from a moose, or worse yet, a bear. I really just wanted to go back to bed, but I was curious as to what it was that was going to kill me and cause a plague on the nation of Alaska. So I rolled over and looked at the dog. He was staring at me like I could rescue him from the arms of his mother (Dianne). She had a grip on him that was slightly less than that of a strangle hold. I looked at his face and quickly recoiled. It was Ebola, or at least some sort of flesh eating disease that was not there 24 hours ago. It was an open wound just below his left ear that was about the size of a golf ball. After getting over the initial shock, I quickly told Dianne to throw him off the bed. She angrily asked why. I said, “He is diseased and going to kill us, now throw the plague ridden dog down. She slowly released him and he quickly ran under the couch (The couch is still a plastic lawn chair from Home Depot). After much discussion we decided that we would take him to the vet to be diagnosed. I was in favor of cooking the non-Ebola parts, but I was over ruled by the wife, and the dog. So we made an appointment for the next day.

Much to my surprise, the Doctor really liked dogs, and Nick(the dog) seemed to really like her. I could just hear the dog telling her about my cooking comments… She quickly diagnosed the problem as something I thought was just another name for Ebola, but as it turned out, it was just a hot spot. A hot spot you ask? Yes. I asked the same question. What is a hot spot? I had not attempted to cook him yet, so whatever it was, I knew it was not my fault. The doctor went on to explain that hot spots are things that dogs get, and are not related to Ebola, or any flesh eating disease that we could catch. I was very relieved. We could keep the dog, and I would not have to worry about loosing my boyish good looks. The doctor took him away and when she came back, she handed me the dog, and a bill that was almost as heavy. I told Dianne to pay the bill, that me and the dog were going to pass out in the car.