My name is Dr. V. Actually, it’s Jessica, followed by a long last name that no one can ever pronounce correctly, so I think it’s best that we just do what everyone at my work does and call me Dr. V. You can call me Jessica if you insist, but don’t expect me to answer any questions about your dog if you do. READ MORE >>

Jessie: Wow, guys, I think we really hit the jackpot this time! We’re owned by a beautiful little girl now! Will you look at this place?

Buzz: It appears satisfactory. I am going to investigate the rest of the premises.

Happy Monday, all! This Pet Doctor Barbie post was probably the most labor intensive to date, but it was a labor of love. I hope you like it.

Pawcurious Media and Dr V present:

“A Wish for Wings That Work”

Hi everyone. Thanks so much for coming to Pet Loss Anonymous.

Hey man, what are you in for? Biting a kid?

Most Barbies only come out once or twice: NASCAR Barbie, Astronaut Barbie, Spongebob Barbie, etc. But there are some that, for obvious reasons, keep coming back in multiple incarnations for each new generation of starry eyed little girls. This is why I have 5 versions of Pet Vet Barbie.

The old ones weren’t so bad. Why each successive one has been stranger and stranger is open to postulation, but even I couldn’t explain what the heck Mattel was thinking with their latest offering of Pet Vet Barbie.

I know they know how to make a vaguely appropriate outfit for a medical office, as evidenced by the new Kid Doctor Barbie on the right. Kid Doctor: sleek, professional, bouffant-ed. Pet Doctor: ponytailed truck stop hash-slinger. What gives?

My theory is this: read more >>

Well, since you all have been so indulgent about the Hounds for Haiti stuff and are doing so well with filling up the page with bids, let’s take a mental break for an episode of Pet Doctor Barbie. What do you say?

This episode is entitled, “The Devil Went Down to Omaha.”

I recently had lunch with a colleague and friend of mine, who for the purposes of this post shall be referred to as Dr. Daisy. Dr. Daisy is a little ray of sunshine, sprinkling good cheer and merriment wherever she goes. It’s hard not to like Dr. Daisy.

Shortly after graduation, she took a job at my old clinic, working with Dr. Nessa.

I had worked with Dr. Nessa but briefly before leaving for a stint as an emergency vet. From what I understand, this was a good thing. Sure, she seemed decent enough in our brief interactions together, but shortly after leaving I started to get calls from my ex co-workers that sounded like Radar calling in for backup from the trenches in Korea.

“Dr V! I only have a minute…” sounds of yelling “It’s crazy here! You gotta come back! There’s needles flying every- whaa? AAAUUGHH!” crash

My friends on the front lines didn’t last long before getting their own discharge papers (mental breakdowns, every one) but the stories they told would make your hair curl. So when Dr. Daisy took a job there, I was a little nervous for her sweet and unassuming self. Apparently it went about as well as one would expect given the circumstances:

“Hi! I’m Dr. Daisy! I look forward to working with you!”

“Whatever. Just stay out of my way.”

“Can I ask you a question about a case?”

“No.”

“But, it’s about this cat you saw and the owner says you turned it into a pot belled pig and- uh, oooooookay…….never mind.”

And so on and so forth.

Voiceover: Diagnosing a pet is like fighting a battle in the fog. Without their ability to tell you what’s wrong, you don’t know your enemy. Sometimes the fog is a mere hazy gauze, easily penetrated with our exam and our instincts, and other times it sits over the field like a big hairy blindfold.

Well hello there, Miss Blake! What brings you and Lulu here today?