There I was, enjoying a Meowmosa-infused brunch with my Girls when you unexpectedly and unacceptably stuffed me in a tiny prison.
Not cool, Humans!
And then the Vet stuck me and weighed me and inquired if, at 11 pounds, I might be on the pudgy side.
Sometimes even the strongest, bravest, seven-pound-and-growing Warrior Puppy Princess gets scared, like when she is taken, against her will, to the dreaded V-E-T.
Just curl up tight in your Human Daddy’s arms. You’re strong, but he’s stronger than you. He doesn’t seem the least bit scared and he’s obviously topped seven pounds.
Human Daddy will keep you safe.
–Xena Warrior Princess
First you take me to the vet.
Next you confine me to the house for over a week so that I can “heal.”
I may be sleeping right now but I’m still furious.
Weren’t we here a couple of days ago?
Didn’t you say that this was our only time here for the year?
So maybe I had an altercation with another Cat…
So maybe I have a slight wound to my flank that is weeping stinky pus…
That’s hardly a reason to bring me back here.
You are not my favorite Human right now.
I’ll admit that I had a rough few days health wise. I may have even complained about my symptoms more than once.
What do you expect? I’m old and grouchy, particularly when I’m not feeling tip-top.
But is the V-E-T really necessary?!
I did NOT consent to this!
The Humans tell me that Stella made it through her surgery well with no complications. She can’t come home until tomorrow, though.
Tomorrow is a super long time away.
Human Daddy gave me a chunk of baguette to console me. Usually, I gobble it up. Sometimes, I even steal Stella’s portion.
Not tonight. I left a chunk for my girl, for when she comes home.
I love my Stella more than bread.
Woofs and Wags, Cosmo
Humans lie. They lie a lot. They will tell you that going to the doctor is “good” for you, that it won’t take long, and that it won’t hurt. Lies, lies, LIES…
Forgiveness can be purchased only with honest tuna, paid up front upon your return home, with interest due to the emotional distress you suffered when you were shoved into a rigid, coffin-like carrier and taken, against your will and despite your protests, to the vet for needless tests and multiple pokes, even though you feel just bloody fine.
It takes a lot of tuna to forgive a liar.