A trip to the vet.

I am here to tell you that Jane can say all the nice things about me she likes, and I do appreciate it, but my last trip to the Thorntown Veterinary Clinic was a real downer. It is all the Assistant Boss's fault. (You must understand that in the line and staff chart on the library's Christmas card, I am listed as the Boss, Karen is the Assistant Boss, and all the rest of the (my) staff are the Assistant Assistant Bosses.)

Anyway, she decided that since I was an unknown to her when she rescued me in October, I should have a worm pill when I went in for my booster shots on December 2. That is not my idea of a Jolly Good Christmas Deal.

I did my best to spit on Dr. Jon's shoes. I foamed at the mouth. I wiggled out of their towels. And I spit the first pill out two times before Dr. Jon won the match. Then, to add insult to injury, he "had" to give me another half tablet! I was not a happy camper, and I am not sure I believed Karen when she gave me that old saw: "This hurts me more than it hurts you!" Has she ever tasted those pills the third time?

At last it was over, and she returned me to the sanctuary of my office in the library, where everyone rightfully made a fuss over me. It took six bits of Purina Whisker Lickin's Dreamy Duos Shrimp & Tuna Flavor Treats (hint, hint--Christmas is coming!) before I forgave the Assistant Boss.

For the record, I am almost sure that I never had worms in the first place!




We did get one thing straight: The library staff will never, ever give me pills.

I am happy to report that I weigh 10 pounds, 7 ounces, have clean ears, and am a fine specimen of cathood.

Tober