At the cocktail party, a person approaches the local M.D. and says, “I’ve got this pain. . . .” The veterinary equivalent is “I’ve got this horse [dog, cow, marmoset or . . . pain]. . . .”

FREE ADVICE

There is a strange phenomenon called Alternative Faith Advice Awareness, which I just made up but can be described as this basic rule of life: Free advice is better than advice you have to pay for.

Most people have a kind of natural resentment against people tellin’ ’em what to do. It hurts even more when they get in the position of havin’ to pay someone to tell ’em what to do!

It’s not like buyin’ groceries or garden rakes, where you pay your money and walk away with something in your hand. But when you buy advice, it’s a little harder to figger what it’s worth. Most “professional advice,” of course, is expensive.

High up on the list of professional advisers is the honorable lawyer. With the law, the common folks seem to be playin’ in a game where nobody knows the rules except the lawyers. So we discuss our legal problems with those people we really trust. Like, if you had an uncle who spent a little stretch in the county jail, you’d have a natural tendency to take his advice about the intricacies of the law. Him bein’ experienced and all. Only in desperation would you ask a lawyer and then you’d question his advice.

Now, if your neighbor is pretty handy and did all the wiring in the new room in his house before the fire, you’d see if you couldn’t get him to help you convert the 110 in the pump house to 220. Call an electrician contractor? You’re kidding!

When your cow won’t get up, your pig is covered with spots, and all the hair is fallin’ off the dog, who do you call? First, you call your wife’s uncle. He used to raise a few hogs before he moved into town fifteen years ago. You could check his advice against that of the feed salesman and the horseshoer. Of course, there’s old Dick who used to work for a vet and was pretty good at hittin’ veins. He worked at the track for a while and is full of advice.

When the chips are finally down and the vet’s out to the barn doin’ a C-section on the old milk cow, you show him that spot on the back of your neck. The doctor in town gave you some medicine to rub on it, but Grandma says it needs a mustard poultice. Your brother-in-law offered to lance it, and you just don’t know what to do. You sure value the vet’s opinion ’cause everybody knows they really know as much about that sort of thing as M.D.’s. That’s so, ain’t it?

There’s just somethin’ that goes against our grain ’bout payin’ for advice. I’m no different. After all, the way I keep up on the latest medical developments is by subscribin’ to the Reader’s Digest.