Last week I had to go to the vet. I don't know why my mom thinks I need to go every year. I feel just fine and I can tell you that going to the vet makes me feel not so fine.
I always know something is up when my mom shoves me into my carrier. I tried to fight her, but she seems to always win. One year she had to catch me with a pillowcase to get me in my carrier. I didn't make her go to such lengths this year.
When we got to the vet, the vet tech let me out of my carrier to get my weight. I lost 0.75-pounds since last year. My mom was not pleased because last year the vet said I was too skinny. After my weight, I decided to have a seat under this bench and I hoped that no one would notice me anymore.
I was unsuccessful, but let me tell you, I put up a fight. Mom and the vet gave up on getting me out from under the bench and just moved the bench to get me. Then they stuck me on a table where I was abused horribly. I won't go into detail as I'm sure it would horrify you. After my abuse, I was released and I retreated back to the corner.
At this point, Mom wanted me to get back in my carrier. I was not interested as who knew where she would take me next that might be even more horrible than the vet! Finally, she trapped me in the corner and I had no place else to go but in the carrier. I braced myself for the next horror.
After we left the vet, we went straight home where Mom took me upstairs and let me out and then left me alone. It wasn't too horrible. I immediately took a nap in the window sill as I needed to recover from my trauma.
I hope you all do not have any vet visits coming up!
Meow,
Wilbur
PS. To try to remedy my weight loss, for which the vet found no medical cause, Mom purchased an assortment of canned foods for me to try. That has been a pretty pleasant experience, if I do say so myself.
