A constant “whoom-whoom-whoom” could be heard outside the exam room. It sounded like a racecar hurtling around a track. Slowly opening the door, I saw the yellow comet called Rocket, a four-month old Labrador, as he completed another lap. His owner, Ray Tyred looked at me with a helpless expression on his face.
“He has a lot of energy,” he explained. Ray slumped in the chair and seemed depressed. “Too much energy. Running, digging holes---I should have named him Trencher.” Rocket slowed down long enough to give his owner’s hand a quick lick and then accelerated again.
“Where did you find Rocket?”
“A guy named Joe Hunter breeds them. I heard he has the best dogs. I got pick of the litter.”
“And how did you pick Rocket?”