Yesterday I went to the travel clinic where among other vaccines I was asked if I would like to receive a series of shots to prevent against rabies.  I said, "Give me everything."

Veronica tells me she turned down the rabies vaccine.  When I asked her why she said, "What?  What am I, a zookeeper!?" (she may or may not have said this is a schticky borscht belt accent - in fact, she may or may not have said this at all.)

I mentioned Veronica's refusal to my doctor, who looked gravely at the floor. "If bitten by a mammal she must assume she has been exposed." She said,  "She will need treatment within 24 hours.  The closest treatment to Tororo, Uganda is probably Nairobi, Kenya."  The doctor continued with her advice about malaria, yellow fever, etc.  But I descended into a dark day dream.

Veronica has been bitten.  We get in an old car.  I drive as fast as I can in the direction of Nairobi.  Hours pass.  Veronica asks me to tie her arms together for my safety, then she says, "It's been a good run, Skipper..."  Her eyes turn electric yellow.  She is trying to trick me into untiring her, but her wits have been slowed by the disease, so her attempts are lame and obvious. "Boy, oh boy," she says, "I think I'm just all rabies-ed out by this long drive.  You should probably untie me."

I tuned back in to the doctors advice in time to her her say.  "It is recommended that you avoid entering all Caves in Uganda as marburg hemorrhagic fever is present in the country."  She scanned the print out she was reading from and said, "Particularly you should avoid the Python Cave in the Maramagambo Forest."

I chose to get a rabies shot.  I'd like to think I would've avoid the Python Cave with a special remonstration.