It's not a criticism, it's an observation.
Children sometimes come with four legs
Mike Cox

When my sons were young, a large portion of my quality time was spent at the local hospital emergency room. Three rambunctious, growing boys, who lived in a time before computer games, overprotective mothers, and cable TV, were outside and active most of the time.

Jake, by himself, accounted for unscheduled visits for an allergic reaction to a spider bite, running through a friend's glass storm door, falling off a skateboard and breaking his foot, and being nearly electrocuted while plugging in a frayed cord on a neighbor's damaged television. All of this happened before he turned ten.

All three participated in youth sports and high school competition, so we were regulars at the emergency clinics no matter where we lived. If the hysteria that surrounds child abuse today was as rampant back then, I would be residing in a Turkish prison even today.

After they grew up, the excitement subsided. The last time I visited a hospital under duress, I had mistaken a bad case of heartburn for a heart attack. Things have been relatively calm for quite a while.

Then, last Saturday, after a lovely visit with friends in Camden, the whole experience was relived. Near dusk, my dog Quigley was investigating a movement in the hedge row near the house when he came nose to nose with a rattlesnake. Not knowing what he was dealing with, my best buddy failed to move his nose in time and received a substantial dose of venom.

We never found the snake, but we did hear it. And it was obvious Quigley was in some trouble. The swelling and pain began almost immediately, and he was bleeding from two puncture wounds on his nose.

The emergency room vet confirmed our diagnosis and suggested we let Quigley stay with them for a couple of nights. Their treatment was involved, costly, and included an expensive dose of antivenim. We decided to wait on the antivenim until we could do some research. The vet told us the venom could be delayed for up to 24 hours and still be effective.

Fifteen years ago, I would never have considered spending over a thousand dollars on a dog's medical care. But times have changed, and I never had a dog like Quigley before.

The next day, when I called to tell them to give him the magic elixir, no matter what it cost, they told me my partner had made a miraculous recovery overnight and didn't need any other treatment. They even said he could go home a day early.

When we picked Quigley up he was a little slow but very happy. By the next day the swelling was almost gone, and he was back to his old, goofy self. We were even able to take our daily walk.

After I realized Quigley would be okay, the feeling was similar to several decades ago when the doctor removed the EKG machine from Jake after his near electrocution. Well, maybe not exactly the same, but close.