The V-E-T

Yesterday, I was forced to go to the V-E-T. I don't know why the Mom feels the need to whipser it when she mentions it. She knows I'm deaf. Well, I'm not actually deaf. I am just very selective of what I hear. There is a difference.

The V-E-T lady did her usually poking and prodding and gave me some nasty pinches. She also took some of my blood. Supposedly the humans are worried that I've lost too much weight. Well, I would eat more if the Brats weren't constantly stealing my food. According to the Mom, they couldn't find anything conclusive so the V-E-T lady said to come back in another month for a checkup. As I said, give me more of the good stinky food and I'll gain weight in no time. Just keep the Brats away from my food.

The Mom does seem to be worried about me. I'm not going to worry though. I've been through worse. At one point, the V-E-T removed my...I think the humans called it a "spleen"...a long time ago when I was feeling really ill. This time I'm not feeling that bad. What would make me feel better is to be away from the Brats for a couple of hours, which going to the V-E-T did.

What was more traumatic than being poked was being put in the plastic box with one of the younger Brats, Fizzy. I showed her by hissing at her and forcing her to stay in the back of the plastic box. I wanted the view and I wasn't going to give it up to her.