Master took me to the vet today. Usually I don't mind - it is a pleasant walk, and the doctors are always nice to me (I always give them kissies, just in case). This time however things got complicated. For some reason (M: it's called a check up.) the vets required a full set of my bodily wastes, which required Master to perform some weird and extraordinary antics in the middle of the road in order to collect the stuff - however this was done before sunrise, and nobody took notice.
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| Reenacting the ending of "A Clockwork Orange" on the scale |
Then the vets pricked me with a number of needles, helped themselves to a good dose of my blood, put me in a x-ray machine to see what I had inside (which strikes me as redundant because at that point they already had samples of all my contents - did they think I was holding back something for the next day ?) and generally made me a victim of improper behavior.
At the end however the vets gave me a treat and told Master that 1) my health is perfect, and 2) that I am the bestest dog they ever worked on (apparently some of my canine fellows have strong reservations about being stabbed in the throat with a needle), so I gave them kissies and went back home.
