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Not so Special Trips

I know all animals would agree with me when I say that “I hate going to the Vet.” It is a long thirty-minute drive from our home. Instead of me sleeping and just hanging around in the house doing my usual stuff, I get woken up early in the morning, given a bath and put inside my carrier. I hate the sight of the streets because there are cats who look at me with judgment in their eyes. I hate it when people look at me and poke inside my carrier because they find me cute.

“Hey, Chett! How are you today?” says Dr. Patterson, the white-coated pain in my behind. He always calls me the wrong name. It’s Jett, not Chett! I am really not a fan of his lisp. He pokes you, he puts cold metal objects on you, he puts things in your ears, gives you bitter tasting medicine and worst of all they stick needles into you. He even holds me in my special place, so I guess it’s not so special anymore. Every month I see him and it pisses me off.

One day, I am not feeling that good. My limbs won’t move, especially my hind ones, I have trouble breathing and I feel my heart going to burst out of my chest. I tried summoning my loudest meow and then I fainted. I can remember a few short moments while I was being rushed to the Vet by Mel. Mel was crying and was so agitated. Dr. Patterson telling Mel “He will be alright, he’s here now.” Dr. Patterson telling me “Hang in there Chett, I won’t let you go this early.” I suddenly felt light and that was the last memory I remember.

When I woke up, I was in a cage in the clinic and Mel was waiting in front of me. When I started moving she jumped out of her seat and rushed towards me. She was so happy to hear my first meow and she called Dr. Patterson. Dr. Patterson then checked me out and he gave the thumbs-up sign to Mel. Mel started to cry and hugged Dr. Patterson. I guess I will be okay then.

After a couple of days, I was discharged from the clinic. Mel took good care of me and she checked up on me every moment she could. She even made me sleep beside her so that she could see if I was doing well.

The next trip to the vet, Dr. Patterson greeted me with the usual “Hi Chett.” I replied with an honest to goodness thankful “MEOW.”

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