Dr. J

Small town doctors used to make house calls. Dr. J was no exception. He was always at my family's beck and call when we needed him. Dr. J was often seen driving around town with his most prized possession on board. That Jewel of the Nile was none other than his German Shepherd named King. The two were inseparable.

He even brought King to his office. Once upon a time a disgruntled patient complained about how long the Dr. was keeping him in the waiting room. The poor man was doubled over in pain. Dr. J nonchalantly replied that he would get to him when he was through brushing King's teeth.

When I was a child, Dr. J would often stop by my house as he was making his rounds. Usually, I was playing in the front yard. One time he stopped by to tell me that it was King's birthday . Dr. J then proceeded to ask me if I ever brushed my dog's teeth. I thought he was nuts. I never heard of such a thing. Well, that didn't deter Dr. J. He proceeded to show me how it was done. Nowadays, veterinarians say that people should brush their dogs' teeth. And to think that Dr. J was ahead of the times!

On another occasion, he stopped by my house and beckoned me to come closer to his car. As I did so, he said, "Here, I want to give you something."

I held out my palms and he handed me an empty coke bottle and a couple of pennies. I must have looked puzzled. Seeing my confused expression, he smiled while proudly declaring, "People say I don't ever give anybody anything. Now you can tell them I gave you something."

He then reached into his back seat and tossed me an old tire with lots of patches. " I heard you were going to the beach, " he said by way of explanation. I actually used that tire as an inner tube of sorts when I went to the beach that summer.

There were other quirky qualities about Dr. J. He seldom allowed his nurse to give shots. Dr. J preferred to do it himself because he took a perverse thrill in sneaking up on someone with a hypodermic needle. When the hapless individual looked the other way, Dr. J would jab the needle into the person's arm. Dr. J would laugh raucously while the injured patient jumped back and shrieked in horror.

However, he was always there when you needed him. My mother once took a nasty fall that required stitches in a very delicate region. Dr. J bent studiously over her, making very minute and precise stitches. All during the delicate operation, he had a cigar clenched tightly between his teeth. I just hope none of the ashes fell where they shouldn't.

Dr. J liked me immensely because I was a feisty child. I would stick my tongue out at him even before he told me to do so. That pleased him immensely. He used to tell me that I had the longest tongue in captivity. He would then stick his tongue out at me.

When my parents took me on vacation out West, I made sure that I sent Dr. J a postcard with a picture of a road runner on it. I also bought him a memento. It was a pin on button that had a picture of a guy with his tongue hanging out. The caption below the picture said, "Same to you, Buster!" Dr. J proudly displayed the trophies I sent him on his bulletin board. The postcard and button adorned his office for decades.

The years passed, and I was now a young adult. Once I had the experience of greeting Dr. J as we walked parallel to each other on the street. I hadn't seen him in awhile. Dr. J recognized me and promptly stuck out his tongue. I was embarrassed to the core. I had outgrown such behavior, but he apparently hadn't.

In the mid 1990's Dr. J passed away. At the graveside funeral, I was disappointed that more people did not attend. Unfortunately, his funeral occurred the same day as the Auburn-Alabama game. I felt that it was a shame that more people did not honor this man who had helped so many sick people in our community. He might have lacked proper bedside manner, but his oddball humor was infectious. Gazing at his coffin, I wanted desperately to stick out my tongue at him as a final farewell, but alas, I was too grown up.