I was still catching Zzzzzz’s at 6 a.m. when the phone call came from my dear old ‘Miss Priss.’
“Can you take me to the hospital?” Priscilla’s voice sounded muffled. “I’m dizzy, and my left side is going numb.”
“Give me a minute,” I said. “I’ll be right there!” I breathed a prayer for Miss Priss, as I shimmied into my clothes. Then I ran out the door.
These stroke-like symptoms were nothing to sneeze at! I was scared for Priscilla. She was a brand new client, but from the moment I laid eyes on her, I’d loved Miss Priss…a blue-eyed Angel with a halo of white curls.
When I first saw her, she was standing in the doorway with her little whippet dog peering between her legs. “Oh…” I gasped. “You look like an Angel…an absolute Angel!” Then I’d ducked my head, embarrassed at myself.
Miss Priss didn’t mind my strange interjections. We were soon great friends—but her whippet-dog, Carmella, wasn’t so sure of me! Carmey had issues. She’d been rescued from an abusive home, and she now owned Miss Priss without question—and was very protective of her!
But then came the emergency call at 6 am. I had to get Miss Priss to the hospital post-haste! The whippet-dog, Carmella, was distraught when I arrived at Priscilla’s door.