So on Saturday, we hadded to go to the v-e-t. Doods. And you wanna know something? The Mom ran outside and stoled the poops of the delicious, pink ears. And then she stoled our poops out of the litterbox. What the paw?
Here are the delicious, pink ears in the exam room. They are well-behaved, like usual. Whatever.
This is Tazo. She thinks if she hides and doesn't move, no one can see her. I don't have the heart to tell her the truth.
This is me. Dad unzipped the carrier and I jumped out to check things out. I think it's really cool that Dr P-G has grey chairs. It's pretty nice of her to color coordinate her furniture with my furs.
The delicious, pink ears went first. He behaved, of course. Because he is a kiss up and Mama's boy. He gotted his heart and lungs listened to and poked in the belly and his ears looked at and then his eyeballs looked at. Oh and his teeths. He hates that. heh heh And then Dr P-G picked up each of his delicious ankles and moved them around because he's got arthritis in his hips. Man, they looked delicious.
Then it was Tazo's turn. She put her head in The Mom's armpit for the whole time, like no one could see her if she couldn't see them. She gotted her belly poked and her eyes and ears checked out and her teeths looked at. She wasn't even that squirmy. I'm going to have to have a talk with her about that.
Then it was my turn. I must admit that Hurl Grey might have shown up. I was real squirmy and I didn't want to get looked at. I didn't want that light in my ears and I didn't want my eyeballs looked at and I really didn't want my teeths checked out. I may or may not have hissed at my beloved Dr P-G. (Sorry, Dr P-G, but a mancat's gotta do what a mancat's gotta do). So I only gotted one side of my teeths checked out.
Then the delicious pink ears went into the back and gotted some bloods stolen and a shot in the booty. Of course, he was a good boy. Whatever.
Then the v-e-t techs came back in to give me and Tazo our shots. Tazo was good. Whatever. I had to hiss. A huge, scary hiss. I even gived the v-e-t tech the goose bumps. They stabbed me in the booty and shoved me in the carrier, like I was a criminal or something. It really wasn't necessary. I wasn't going to go on a rampage or anything. I just didn't want a shot in the booty. Or my teeths looked at.
The Mom apologized lots and lots to everyone for me being a "jurkface." They said that it was ok, but she still felt pretty bad since I'm usually pretty good when I'm there. Dad stopped and gotted us a hamburger (plain, no bun please) on the way home. The delicious, pink ears gotted half of it. And then I gotted two bites - mine and Tazo's (because she didn't want hers!?!). Then we all tooked a nap.
This is me a couple of hours later. I laid on the bed next to The Mom and tooked a nap. And I purred. I didn't want to be a jurkface, but sometimes it just happens.
Mancat Rule of the Day: If you're going to be a jurkface, make sure to make up for it by acting all sweet and looking cute and purring and stuff.
