Artist: Corb Lund Song: Talkin' Veterinarian Blues Album: Losin' Lately Gambler Intro: G C A7 G X 2 G C A7 D -----3---------|----------------|------------------|-----2--------| ---------------|-1--------------|--------2---------|-------3------| ---------------|----------------|------------------|-----2--------| ---------------|-------2--------|--------2---------|--------------| ---2-----------|-----------3----|------------------|--------------| -----3---------|----------------|------------------|--------------| G C Well my Daddy's a vet and if I was one too, the one thing he D G C A7 D always taught me to do was get paid, cash money. G C Jam and eggs is a kind enough thank you, but not for the D bookkeeper, not for the banker G C The margin's thin on treatin' large animals unless it's a D G C A7 D purebred or, more understandable, a racehorse of some kind G C You see son, city folks pay a high dollar to make sure Fido D G ain't hot under the collar, that's where the money is G C A7 D G C Boutique animal hospitals, shopping malls, cocker spaniels, D G C A7 D Pomeranians; hang your shingle There was a blind old woman brings in a bird with a busted wing and somewhere she heard we were good doctors That night it died in the cage, under our care of unknown cause but we'll make it square, these things happen Only one cure though, quick trip to the pet store Well mornin' come, didn't want to upset her; for her own good I didn't see a need to tell her "Not only you boys fixed his wing, but it appears as though you taught him to sing, you are good doctors! He ain't never sung before, I've had him for years!" When you've been in the business as long as I have, you begin to consider the plight of the calves Fun lovin', frolickin', carefree little critters The first few months ain't all that bad, they'll never forget the good times they had But then comes fall and brandin' times, stuck in the ribs with a red hot iron Tag in the ear, shots in the hip, the dehornin' paste and... snip, snip, snip Welcome to the world little buddy, it's no picnic I've treated my share of sugar beet chokes, if it gets too bad you gotta cut the throat and salvage the carcass, dress him out on the spot This one old steer, he choked real bad, in the corner of the pen he's mighty mad I poked at the beet, it wouldn't dislodge, the farmer says, "I got a dull knife back at the garage" I said "Go get it!" Gotta save the meat I made the jugular cut, the steer jumped to his feet, shook his head and coughed up the beet Stood there and bled to death in front of his owner "Thank you Doc... what do I owe ya?" Well that's how it goes with the sugar beet chokes Just don't get me started onnnnnnnnnn...... alfalfa bloats
