Zeke and Blaze both got their physical exams. As evidenced in one of my earlier rants against the military medical system, I tire of constantly changing physicians. Either we move or the doctor does. The military assigns us physicians and we may see them once before we are assigned another. So, we met another doctor. This was Zeke’s preschool physical and his siblings had warned him that he would get shots. He received a vaccination in each thigh and had to have his finger pricked for a lead level test. When the tears subsided, he told me, “I don’t like to get poked.” Blaze’s exam was a bit easier since he didn’t have any vaccinations due. He just had an overall health check and exam for worms. The breeder recommended a vet who has a walk in clinic, no appointments. You sign in, wait your turn, and go see the vet when your name is called. It was a very low budget operation. One old vet, one understudy, and two receptionists. The building was old and small and worn out, but the vet is good at what she does and you can’t beat the prices. Sitting in the waiting room with us were a Pitbull, a Cockapoo, a hyper dog, a German Shepherd, a tiny dog in a cat cage named Max, and a Bassett Hound named Einstein. It was very crowded. I held Blaze throughout, just in case the Pitbull decided he wanted a snack. I opened the door to leave and discovered someone standing outside with a Husky. I had to laugh, because if I had to bring Czar to that place, that is exactly where I would have been.