The following fall, I broke my wrist in a brutal game of dodge ball and, true to his word, Dad set it himself. The principal even called him a few weeks later because, according to her, I was threatening to hit certain kids (who deserved it) over the head with the cast.
Dad had a talk with me, asked me to tone it down and, to his surprise, found that everything had healed early. So the cast came off and I was back to throwing harder than ever for my baseball team.
We still chuckled about that almost until the day Dad died.
If a doctor can fix something with four legs (or no legs), he can sure fix something with two. That’s the way we always looked at it, and it would be a mite easier because the patient could talk with him. From what I have seen of ER treatment in this area, I’d prefer the vet.