Where's my Dog?

Sometimes, in the great scheme of things, life is routine. No blues and twos. No high speed runs.
So, sometimes, life is normal.
This week has seen the Wimbledon Tennis Finals. As usual, the second that we sat down to watch the Men's singles final, the phone rang.
Now, we are working on the conspiracy theory that there are a series of alarms connected to the Control Room which, when activated, cause an old fashioned large red rotating beacon to start flashing, and a ear piercing siren to commence sounding.
The first of these is located on the kettle switch, and is connected to a further switch which is activated when the fridge door closes. This prevents the phone ringing before the tea is actually in the cup.
The second, third and fourth are wired to the three sofas. These are wired in such a way as to only alarm if weight is distributed across at least two cushions.
Anywayhoo. We were sent to do a transfer of a lady into our local Community Hospital. She was our favourite type of senior patient. These patients ask the same four questions over and over again, and have genuinely forgotten the answer when they ask again..... some forty seconds later. Now, this can be tiresome, but luckily this was a short journey. The situation can be prolonged by the driver, depending on the level of abuse traded between crew members on that shift. Breeze2 was lucky. It was early in the evening, and our normal jape and insult routine hadn't really started to gather speed.
We arrived in due course at the Hospital where the lady was to be kept for a period of respite. Despite her earlier protestations based on the length of stay not exceeding about an hour, Breeze2 had converted her into a lovely lady, enjoying her evening excursion with a lovely young suitor. Awwwww! (Fetch me a bucket! Quick!)(He often has this effect on senior ladies!) She was quickly wheeled on the trolley stretcher to the ward, mainly in order to maintain this particular mood, and an initial handover swiftly given to the Nurse. Our patient in the meantime was clearly enjoying the new company of other patients and staff members, and was soon back in her stride. The questions began again.
"Where's my dog?",
"What hospital is this?",
"Why do I have to lie on the bed?",
"Why am I here?",
"Where's my dog?"..........
We had to wait to hand over to the Ward Sister, so were given a cup of tea and a rare reward, an After Eight mint, then directed to a seat each in front of the 50 inch widescreen Plasma TV where Federer and Nadal where whacking tennis balls at each other at a rate of knots.
Five minutes and a quick handover later, we collected the stretcher, and noticing the quiet on the section of the ward where our patient was, departed , throwing a final loud "Where did you say the dog was?" over our shoulders. Immediately the questions started again, and we made our way back to the Amblesteed as two happy men.
We called green (i.e ready for another job).
"Busy Junction for Standby", Control Voice (CV) said.
"Roger, Busy Junction for Standby received. Is there a telly there?"
"Errr..... negative. Why?" CV.
"Errrr.... finals updates?" Us.
"Will keep you informed. Control out."
So, Busy Junction it was.