(Today’s blog post comes to us from our 8.5 year old tuxedo cat, James Bond, also known as J.B. or Jeeber-Cat; who had his annual check-up with the veterinarian today. – VM)
The teenage boy tried to get me to make nice for this picture. Oh, those humans have NO IDEA what’s coming to them…. (Photo Credit: V. Martin)
I was asleep on top of a laundry basket when they ambushed me, and before I could find something to stretch up against and scratch in protest, I was locked in the blue two-door top-loading carrier and taken out to the car. At least the old woman had the decency to start the air conditioning before she started driving.
The old woman and the girl could have waited before getting hamburgers from the drive-thru window. I tried butting my head against the steel top-loading door, but I should have remembered from the last time that trick never works. And I still didn’t get a hamburger.
I thought about making my escape when it was time for me to get weighed, but somebody got wise and put the cat scale inside the room with the latching door. Rats.
The pretty lady with the blonde hair and glasses, who the old woman and the girl called “Dr. Jones,” poked around inside my ears, checked my teeth, and shone a bright light in my eyes. She said my glands weren’t up and my thyroid was okay. Then she gave me not one, but three needles in the butt. Really? All the treats from that jar on the counter won’t make up for this one, humans.
So I heard that I gained two pounds since last year. Meh, no big whoop. The old woman and the tall, bald human were the ones who brought that dog into the house and then Coco Cat. Hey, works for me that they feed Coco too, so I can shove her out of the way whenever the tall, bald human puts food in our dish.
What’s that? Dr. Jones agreed with the old woman that I need to be on a diet? Well, the woman should know, only cats are cute when they’re old and fat. Good thing Dr. Jones let me sniff her shoes. Didn’t much care for the treats the girl tried to give me, though.
I have a new, shiny red tag for my collar. Something to do with one of those needles I got in my butt. And that was it. Next time, it’s Coco Cat’s turn. I hope she’s better than me at hiding underneath the humans’ clean clothes!
Well, it’s time for us to be leaving
And it hurts so much, it hurts so much inside
And now she’ll go her way, I’ll go mine
But next year we’ll meet at the same place, the same time
Me and Dr. Jones, Dr. Jones, Dr. Jones
