This Week

Oh hello, friends!

Well, this was a traumatic week for

me and the Squeaker.

Mostly because we went to the Vet.  We hadn't been in a couple of years,

and that was mostly my fault.

Veterinarians, and their assistants, too,

are afraid of me.

I pull my "Wild Turkish Street Cat" routine

in their office,

and they nearly wet their pants in fear.

It happened again this time,

so there I was, pretty quickly, with

my face stuffed in a bag, and two people holding onto me with leather gloves

(now don't you think that's a bit excessive?

After all, I am 13 years old,

or maybe older. . . )

 I did manage to get a rabies shot and some other dreadful shot out of it.

How demeaning.  

They wanted to "examine" me,

but no way was I having any of that!

Vets are afraid of me.

They told her not to bring me back there.

Ha!

Now back to looking for that ball behind the bookcase.

I know it's back here!

I put it here myself!

But I can't see it!

Why can't she just move these shelves?

Uh oh,

 

. . . she just took the camera out again;

I know she wants a shot of me

with my butt in the air.

No way will I lower myself for that!

See ya later,

love

Pişi