Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Well, last weekend is over, thankfully. My Mama took me to the vet to get my nails trimmed. I HATE going to the vet. Then the rest of the weekend, Mama was being all nice to me. Well, I wasn't having any of it and hopped away and hid out under the couch. If she really wanted to be nice to me, she wouldn't have tricked me with a peach to get me into my carrier then taken me to that chamber of horrors. So, you think a few minutes of petting and brushing can make up for that? Whatever, lady. Talk to the tail.
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2 comments:
Awwww, poor Dylan. I don't like the vet either-he always pokes me and tries to take my temperature. My mom says that I have to go to the vet sometimes but I don't believe her. I think I am just fine without him being nosy and asking all sort of questions that a gentleman shouldn't ask a lady.
My mom says that it's too bad my vet doesn't do "house calls", whatever those are, because she says he is hotter than a baby in a blind school. Whatever. There is nothing cute about a man who does such mean things to an innocent kitty.
Why do our people insist on taking us to the vet? They must know we hate it, but they keep doing it anyway.
I don't know what house calls are either, and I don't want to know.
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