Tallis: "Meow!"
Me: "Meow."
Tallis: "Meeeeooooooowwwww!"
Me: "Meeeeeooooowwww."
Tallis: "Mowowowowwww!"
Me: "......"
Tallis: "........ meow?"
While the beginning of December marks the start of the Christmas celebrations for many, for Tallis and I it means that her annual vaccinations are due. It is not our favourite time of the year. She was already in her carrier, having entered back first; a feat only to be surpassed one hour later when she entered head first for the return journey. Needless to say, her displeasure at the situation was being vocalised.
I pushed open the door and placed the cat carrier on the front step while I locked the house up. To my surprise, there was silence behind me. I turned to see a giant pompom of fur with two shocked looking eyes in its centre. I suppose it was rather cold.
OK, it was snowing.
But the veterinary practice was only around the corner and at least we didn't have to drive anywhere. I headed off down the street, carrying my silent companion. The vet was a cheerful woman who clearly loved animals. It could have been a meeting full of seasonal cheer, but unfortunately Tallis' vocal chords had de-thawed in record time and she didn't hesitate to inform the poor vet exactly what she thought of her.
Oh, it was terrible (she protested to me, to the vet, to the veterinary nurse who dropped in later, to the receptionist at the front desk and to the cat that was coming in after us. Well, actually, that last one might have been random abuse.) This vile, cat-hating minion of Satan looked in my EARS and then she poked my TUMMY and then she listened to my CHEST and oh! It was bad.
The vet also gave her the vaccination shot, but oddly that didn't seem to register as problematic. The tummy inspection though? Hell. On. Earth. Right there.
The final verdict was health 90% (possibility of asthma to keep an eye on) and charm 2%. We left to make the blustery journey back home.
Me: "There. Was that really so bad?"
Tallis: ..... Didn't you see she touched my TUMMY?!?!
We are now watching the snow from the living room. I have a mug of tea which I narrowly resisted added whisky too (largely because I had only pure malt and it would be a waste to mix it) and Tallis is trying to sleep beside me. I say 'trying' because I'm on the watch for any side-effects from the vaccinations which I've translated as the need to poke her every few minutes.
Me: "Aren't you glad I'm at home to look after you?"
Tallis: .........
Me: "Meow."
Tallis: "Meeeeooooooowwwww!"
Me: "Meeeeeooooowwww."
Tallis: "Mowowowowwww!"
Me: "......"
Tallis: "........ meow?"
While the beginning of December marks the start of the Christmas celebrations for many, for Tallis and I it means that her annual vaccinations are due. It is not our favourite time of the year. She was already in her carrier, having entered back first; a feat only to be surpassed one hour later when she entered head first for the return journey. Needless to say, her displeasure at the situation was being vocalised.
I pushed open the door and placed the cat carrier on the front step while I locked the house up. To my surprise, there was silence behind me. I turned to see a giant pompom of fur with two shocked looking eyes in its centre. I suppose it was rather cold.
OK, it was snowing.
But the veterinary practice was only around the corner and at least we didn't have to drive anywhere. I headed off down the street, carrying my silent companion. The vet was a cheerful woman who clearly loved animals. It could have been a meeting full of seasonal cheer, but unfortunately Tallis' vocal chords had de-thawed in record time and she didn't hesitate to inform the poor vet exactly what she thought of her.
Oh, it was terrible (she protested to me, to the vet, to the veterinary nurse who dropped in later, to the receptionist at the front desk and to the cat that was coming in after us. Well, actually, that last one might have been random abuse.) This vile, cat-hating minion of Satan looked in my EARS and then she poked my TUMMY and then she listened to my CHEST and oh! It was bad.
The vet also gave her the vaccination shot, but oddly that didn't seem to register as problematic. The tummy inspection though? Hell. On. Earth. Right there.
The final verdict was health 90% (possibility of asthma to keep an eye on) and charm 2%. We left to make the blustery journey back home.
Me: "There. Was that really so bad?"
Tallis: ..... Didn't you see she touched my TUMMY?!?!
We are now watching the snow from the living room. I have a mug of tea which I narrowly resisted added whisky too (largely because I had only pure malt and it would be a waste to mix it) and Tallis is trying to sleep beside me. I say 'trying' because I'm on the watch for any side-effects from the vaccinations which I've translated as the need to poke her every few minutes.
Me: "Aren't you glad I'm at home to look after you?"
Tallis: .........