Oh, Joy! It's Going to the Vet Day!

Oh, good news today, folks! I am due for my Rabies vaccines at the vet. In case you haven't noticed, I hate going to the vet. It’s embarrassing. First of all, like always, the receptionist who witnessed my one little meltdown in the lobby will make a point to tell the new receptionist all about me. One time. I had one little lapse of character in the waiting room...a dog came in and barked something in Great Dane and I climbed up on Dad’s hat. One little freak out and I’m labeled a nutcase! As usual, I'll get rushed into the examining room to avoid an anticipated loss of composure and they'll send in the 98 pound vet tech to get my measurements. Okay. The 98 pound vet tech can never get a handle on all of me at once. We look ridiculous, she always nearly drops me and it’s humiliating. Why they subject me to these things I will never understand.

Then, the vet will come in. Oh, yes, and if I'm lucky, it will be my favorite one in the practice! Last time I was there, not only did she poke and grope and prod me, but she immediately started the “fat cat” rant. Oh, and then, I had to spend a full day with this lady! She had the nerve to put me on a diet! Hmmpf. Well, I sat in the hospital through her lunch and snacks…and apparently, her NutriSystem meals were delayed or something because that McDonald’s lunch and the Nutty Bars were surely not part of her diet plan. Somebody else needs to give old Jennie a call besides Frito, let me tell you.

Of course, since I'm not exactly a featherweight kind of kitty cat, they'll bring in not one, but two, extra vet techs to control me during my shot. Oooohh. I'm a mean one. They'll all grab me like I'm going to go Cujo on them or something--I won't move a muscle--and they'll feel like idiots...been there done that. It's really not as funny as it used to be, you know?

Wonder what the practicing moneymaker, a.k.a., the Vet, will find wrong with me today. Think my weight is too obvious? Gee, I wonder if they'll change my diet plan? That's been working so well for them. Well, I've decided that I'm not going without a fight today. I think I'll grab onto the front door with all four paws, then I'll refuse to get into the van, then I'll insist on sitting on the human's lap with my paws around her neck, and, ah, what the heck, I may just climb up onto her head for fun in the lobby...even if there isn't a dog...you know for old time's sake.

Vets. Phooey. Frito the cat is no lab rat....my new motto, like it?