A visit to the vet

                  June is the time of year that I take the family cat, Toby, to see the veterinarian. I take him to a local farm supply store where a vet and staff visit one Saturday each month. The visiting vet clinic is held in the back of the store in a large open area.

                The process to take Toby to the vet is somewhat involved. If he gets any idea what I am up to, he disappears, never to be found until after the clinic is closed. It’s true. I don’t know how he does it. To limit his ability to hide, I shut all the doors in the house and place the cat carrier where he cannot see it. Then, I put fresh food out and wait for him to show up. He always does (he’s kind of stupid about food) and that is when I scoop him up and force him into the carrier for the trip.

                Now, I have, over my many years, learned to translate catspeak. What follows is a conversation that took place between me and Toby, our 12 year old orange short hair. I did have to do quite a bit of editing as cats are among the most vulgar animals on the planet. The narrative picks up just as I scoop him up and away from his food bowl and to the cat carrier.

“Hey! Just what in (expletives deleted) are you doing? Put me down you (expletives deleted)!

“You’re going to the vet. It’s time for your shots.”

“The (expletives deleted) I am. No! I am not getting in this box and you can’t make me! I’ll kick your (expletives deleted) teeth out!” (Now from inside the carrier box). “Let me out of here! I’m not going to the vet! I just went a year ago!” (expletives deleted)

“Quit whining. You do this every year and every year it’s the same thing. You pitch and moan and nothing happens. You’re such a baby.”

(Very long string of profanity that lasts a full two minutes).  “A baby? Let me out of this box and I’ll show you a baby. You’ll never shave again! I’ll rip your heart out and show it to you before you die, you (expletives deleted)!

“Do you remember the waiting area from last year?”

“Yes, so the (expletives deleted) what?”

“Do you remember all of the dogs that were in that room?”

(Long silence) “Lucky thing for them I was in my cage. A lot of dogs would’ve have (expletives deleted) died that day.”

(Now in the waiting room surrounded by twenty or so dogs and their owners). “Well, big mouth, we are here again and there are a lot of dogs here. Want me to let you out?”

“No, you’d better not. I’m afraid they would all run away in abject fear and make a mess of the place. No, I’m better off in here. I don’t want to hurt all those sorry (expletives deleted).”

                With that, Toby wedged himself into the back of his cage and tried to look invisible. I had to pry him out to get his shots. When it was all over and he was back in the safety of his cage, he announced, “Lucky thing you held me down, (expletives deleted). If you had let go of me the dog carnage would’ve been terrible.”

                “Sure buddy.”

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