I am going to kill that woman. She took me to the vet. There I was, having a peaceful catnap on our bed. Before I knew what was happening, she had swooped me up and shoved me into the cat carrier. I was not happy. The only thing wrong with me was that I had a minor bump on the head. There was no need to go to the torturer—err—-vet for that. I tried to tell her I was OK, but she didn’t listen. So there I was, trapped in the carrier:
She took me to the car, and off we went. I yowled at her during the entire journey there to make her turn around. That didn’t work. We still ended up at the vet’s. I was terrified! I hate being caged up, and I don’t care for vets. After we arrived, I noticed there weren’t any other animals there. I thought, Thank goodness. There’s no other animals here. This should be fast.
Well, I was wrong. They put us in a room. I knew what was coming next, so I used all of my claw power to stay in the carrier. It didn’t work. Would you believe that woman had the nerve to dump me out of the carrier? Even worse, she forced me to allow the vet to examine me. He told her what I already knew—-that I had a minor bump on my head that was harmless. So, the entire trip was a waste of time and terror for me. This picture shows exactly how I feel when I’m at the vet’s.
Finally, after she got all of the paperwork for my insurance done, we went home. I didn’t want to speak to her. However, she put some salmon out. Even though I was angry with her, I came out of hiding and ate it. However, as the picture below shows, I did have the last claw word in this matter: