Latest trip to the vet

I was just reading Cindy Dean's blog. She was talking about how she had to go to the emergency room. Then I remembered. Hey I didn't blog about my last trip to the vet! We'll I haven't posted any journal entries lately, so I decided I would belatedly post my journal entries about mine and Carty's check up at the Vet. At the end I also posted last years experience that was orginally posted on my Mama's blog..... We'll start on the Thursday night prior to our trip on Friday Morning.....

Thursday

6:50pm......I'm sitting upstairs watching a moth fly around the room(a favorite summer activity of mine). My mom and dad are down stairs. My mom reminds my dad that he needs to drop us off at the V-E-T in the morning. She spells out the letters, instead of just saying the vet. I go to the top of the stairs and yell down, "I can spell you idiots". I go back to the room I was in.

7:04pm......The moth flies right by me. I catch him in my paws, an kill the S.O.B. Trust me he was asking for it. He was a threat to my family. My actions are completely justified.

7:08pm......Carty is in the kitchen down stairs. I send him a text to let him know we're going to the vet in the morning. Yup, I sent him a text. You really don't expect me to walk down the stairs to tell him do you?

7:14pm......Carty was just at the vet a few weeks earlier to get his heart checked. He had to have patch shaved on his side for his test. Now him and my Mama are seeing if he possibly had enough hair grow back for a comb over to cover up the patch. There was a little Persian he fell for the last time he went to the vet and for some reason he thinks she might be there again. He wants to look his best.

7:30pm.......Me and Carty go to my our buddy Simba's for our usual Thursday night poker game with some friends.

7:37pm.......A sure sign we are getting old. When we arrive at the poker game. We give our friends just regular paw shakes. There was a time where we might do a knuckle bash. Or that one fist on top of the other thing. Maybe a fancy chollo paw shake. Not anymore. Just a plain old paw shake. I think humans should take note, once you hit about 45, you need to lose the fancy hand shakes. Otherwise you just look like a guy that is trying to be younger than he really is and it just looks pathetic. Kind of like having a comb over.

9:41pm......Carty and I bring up that we have go to the vet the next morning. It prompts a conversation in which all compare horror stories from our trips to the vet. Carty has more than anybody, because it seem he's there about every two weeks. I have the best story though. When I was a baby I nearly died from an allergic reaction from my immunization. I actually never lost consciousness and was too young to even remember the incident. But like the old saying goes, never let the truth get in the way of a good story. Every time I tell it I embelish it a little more. I'm up to being out for more than 10 minutes and actually reached the gates of heaven. I tell everyone that when they told me it wasn't my time yet, Instead of coming back through the light I just hung out and had a beer(a Guinness) with St. Peter and John the Baptist(yes he got his head back) before I came back. I said I tried to get them to tell me if they knew who was going to win the next year's Super Bowl, but they wouldn't give in. I think little details like that make your lies a little more believable.

12:15am.......Slightly toasted we all go out for breakfast after the game to a little Irish Pub called "Three Angry Wives". Another tradition of ours. The sign at the front door says their "Special" for the night is huevos rancheros. I have very few rules in life. I don't like confining myself that way. However, I do have a rule against eating huevos rancheros at an Irish Pub.

12:24am.......Carty orders the huevos rancheros and an order of pancakes. The following conversation happens.

Me: What the hell are you doing ordering huevos rancheros at an Irish Pub?! We have to go to the vet tomorrow!! You're going to be farting all day! Then your chasing it with panckes!! I thought you were watching your heart!!

Carty: Hey, If want to order huevos rancheros I'll order huevos rancheros! I know it's an Irish Pub! But the cook is as Mexican as they come! He was probably flipping eggs in Jalisco last week! Damn it, you don't tell me what to do! I'll eat what I want and I'll deal the the consequences!!

Me: But I have to deal with the consequences!! I'm going to be in a carrier and a cage with you all day tomorrow!! Your going to be farting like crazy!!

Waitress: Hey!! Settle down or I'm cutting you off!!

1:45am......We get picked up by cab that smells like a mule just took a dump in the back seat.

2:01am......Home and headed to bed.

7:31am......Awake. Contemplating running under the back corner of the bed so I can't be nabbed and taken to the vet. Think better of it. I tried before and never win. I gather up some books, magazines and my Ipod to keep me occupied during the day.

7:47am......We're in the car on the way to the vet. Carty looks over and says "I shouldn't have had the huevos rancheros".

8:00am......I say hi to Amber the receptionist. We used to be adversaries. We're still not really friends but have come to an agreement to be more amicable with each other.

8:03am......Me and Carty get put into our cage. Carty takes huge dump as soon we get in there. I stick my nose out between the bars to gasp for air. I yell out "Can I get a clean up over here"? How can I manage to play poker, have a blog, play golf etc. But I can't clean up a litter? I don't know. That shit is for you to figure out.

10:41am......I'm first for my check up. I go through the standard thermometer up the ass routine. Get my normal immunizations. This time my Mama is having us get microchiped in case we get lost in a place that doesn't get cell phone reception. I ask the vet if it hurts worse than a regular shot. She says "No, it's only the size of a grain of rice". The I said "Ohh, well let me jam some risotto down your spine and we'll see how you like it"! She gave me the shot. It hurts about 5 times more than the regular shot.

11:32am......Amber comes to get Carty for his check up. While me and Amber just manage to get along, her and Carty have become friends in his recent trips. When she comes to get him he right away asks her if her boyfriend is still being an asshole. She notices a red stain his chest just under his chin. She asks with concern "What is that? Is that blood"? Carty was like "Nah, It a chile stain from my huevos rancheros last night".

12:30pm......Carty and Amber come back to the cage room. They keep talking outside the cage for a while. Apperently Amber's boyfriend is still being an asshole. Now Carty is giving her relationship advise. Yup, she's taking relationship advise from a cat that has never had a relationship that has lasted longer than three months. After they are out there for about 20 minutes I yell out "Hey, If Dr. Phil doesn't have to be in his cage I shouldn't have to be in here either". The both look at me, roll their eyes and keep talking.

2:57pm......My Mama mercifly picks us up. On the way home me and my Mama convince Carty that now he is chipped and he can be tracked on Google Maps.

3:21pm......We get home. Carty spends the next 4 hours trying to find himself on Google maps before he catches on.

The end.

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Friday, May 9, 2008
Bono's Blog. It's been a rough week.
Hi everyone. It been a rough week for me. First of all, to address Cindy's comments on my last blog, no Absolutely Cindy did not win. She did make a little run in the race to make it a little exciting though. Yes, I have been mourning Eight Bells. I'm not sure if it's good or bad to be an animal in this Country. On one hand the death of a single horse got more news coverage than the death of 100,000 people. I'm just as guilty of not paying much attention to it. I'm not quite sure where those people died either, but I heard a little something about it. But then again I'm a cat. What I also want to know is why are the people that are so outraged over the death of Eight Bells, not outraged over the tens of thousands of cats that a euthanized every year? I'm yet to see a news report on that. In my last blog I already addressed some of the hypocrisy in regards to the criticisms of horse racing. Going back and reading it, my comments now seem eerily prophetic. I wish it wasn't so. It completely ruined our Derby weekend. It also kind or ruins the rest of the Triple Crown because we'll have to watch the races holding are breath hoping something like this does not happen again. It's hard to get excited about that. I don't want to sound dismissive of the problems of horse racing. It certainly has them. But this is just another example of misplaced priorities in our Country. On that same note I had no idea that PETA was such a shameful organization. I figured that an organization that's called People For the Ethical Treatment of Animals was a good organization. I found out this week that they are basically an organization that is after self promotion and grandstanding. It turns out that they are one of the leading killers of cats and dogs in this Country. According to the Virginia Dept. of Agriculture they killed %97 of the animals they "rescued" at their "shelter" in that State. If you want to donate to a charitable organization regarding animals, don't donate to them. Give to the ASPCA instead.......So this started my week bad enough. It got worse today. I'll start from the beginning. A few weeks ago the reminder from my vet that Me and Carty are due for our booster shots went up on the fridge. My Mom and Dad keep our appointment date secret because they correctly assume that I will go into hiding that day. The reminder stayed ominously posted there for us to see everyday. I'm not sure if it is some sort of mental torture that they are trying to pull off, but it is not very nice. I tried disguising my voice as my Dad's a couple times and tried calling the vet's office to confirm my appointment date to find out when it was. But the stupid receptionist caught me. I called and asked when my appointment was and she would simply say "I know it's you Bono, stop calling" click. Well this morning, it turned out to finally be the day. I went in without much of a fight. I figured I just better get it over with. A trip to the vet is never good. But this one was worse than usual. When we first went in, me and the receptionist exchanged glares. Then the vet was not there till later in the AM so my Mama could not stay with us during our shots, which really sucks. When the vet finally got there, we got our check up. They take our temperature with a rectal thermometer. Can anybody explain why there has been no significant advancement in taking a cats temperature? If PETA really cared about animals they would be addressing this. They just grab me and stick a thermometer in my ass! No warning, nothing! They should at least talk dirty to me or something. Get me prepared somehow. We'll after that I got a shot of Benadryl. I had an allergic reaction when I was a baby. I don't remember the incident but it gave my Mama quite a scare. So now before all my vaccinations I get an extra shot. Goody for me! Then they put Me in the lovely holding pen for a while before my vaccinations. I guess they want me to think about it for a while. Then I finally get my shots. Shots, plural. I thought I was just getting one. It turns out that I was do for another one. Wooh hoo!! I'm almost positive that freakin receptionist convinced the vet to give me an extra meaningless shot to get back at me. After our shots they put Me and Carty into a cage. You people call them kennels. But let's be honest ok. Is a damn cage. It could be worse. Our vet's office is cats only. Let me take you back to our vet in Albuquerque. In a similar situation we were also in a room with caged up dogs. Once there was a big ole' pincher that would just keep barking. Endless, woof, woof, woof. Loud as can be. Carty and two other cats that we knew from the neighborhood were plotting a way to shank him if they got a chance. Prison style. Fortunately the three of them had the combined IQ of 4 and nothing happened. But I have to admit, I think I would have been ok with it. Ok, back to today. I'm in a cage with Carty. Next to us is some other cat that Carty decides to have an endless conversation with. Every topic under the sun. The election, hockey, chicks, nip, litter, the subprime mortgage crisis. Basically a bunch of stuff neither one of them knew a damn thing about. Then in the cage on the other side of us they put a cute Siamese named GiGi from Spring Valley. She was in for a urinary track infection and you can tell wanted nothing to do with anybody. So naturally Carty hits on her. Three different times!! Through all this I was just trying to get some sleep to make the day go faster till my Mom picked us up. But with all this going on it never happened. When my Mama showed up I asked the vet if I could have a few beers when I get home. She said no. I can't have beer with my vaccinations. I had been looking forward all day to having a few beers and watching the Lakers game. Just another bad break. So now I'm here, sober with a sore ass. So that was my week. Oh, I forgot. The handle on our carrier broke and we were dropped in our carrier. Twice.