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The Cat Who Loves to Go to the Vet

I found Monk in one of the local animal shelters near my home. I was already 22 at that time, and I felt so lonely at home. I did not want a dog, as I was working most of the time, and I felt a cat would be perfect as I believed it could be entirely self-sufficient. Blame it on the cartoons I have been watching since I was a child.

Once I got Monk, though, I did not know how self-sufficient a cat can be.

Sure I got him regular visits to the vet, which he seemed to have a liking to every time we visit. I am not sure if the reason was the vet herself, because Dr. Tamara was sure pretty, too. I got him good food as well as some treats, with toys that the doctor suggested I should get because she said Monk was at a near teen human’s age and may act as such.

Well, he was a precocious little bugger. He would always hunt around the house for something, anything he can catch. There were occasional flies that would get in the house and flutter about or some little mice that may find its way on the little corners. He would be sure to catch them and arrange them in neat small piles in front of my slippers at the door. So when I come home, he would stand proudly in front of them, akin to a hunter offering his catch to his king.

But what he loved the most was the vet visits. He would meow nonstop and plop in weird places, to get me to notice him. I always bring him whenever I can, to the point that Dr. Tamara’s nurses seem to think I was visiting the doctor instead of me bringing in Monk for a check-up.

There came a time, though, that Monk had a bit of trouble with a skunk. That meant another trip to the clinic, and the nurses all gagged at the smell. But Monk never minded, tried to trot up to Dr. Tamara, as if he was telling on the nurses who did not want to help him. She smiled at this and rubbed at Monk for a bit.

I was a bit surprised, though, when she mentioned she would be the one to do the bathing and cleaning because her nurses seemed to do those kinds of things more. I watched her don a uniform and went with the business of scrubbing Monk to get the smell off. He did not mind her, but he was all eyes for her.

He would occasionally sneak a glance at me, a gleam in his eyes that told me he was up to something. When the bubbles were washed off, he suddenly shook like a dog, drenching the doctor with water. I suddenly ran in with a towel and gave it to Dr. Tamara, but she was all smiles when she told me it was okay.

Monk was looking at me as if I was crazy for worrying too much. Then he proceeded to lick his fur. I was still a bit ashamed, though, so I asked Dr. Tamara out for dinner to make up for what he did. She smiled at this and mentioned the time I could come back. She added we could eat at her home, and to bring Monk along because she had a surprise.

I was excited that she said yes, and made sure Monk was extra clean and fluffy when I brought him to the vet’s house. I was amazed when she eventually told me what the surprise was.

She was taking care of one of Monk’s brothers! Dr. Tamara found out when Bob was brought to the vet, and after checking him – saw Monk, and he was related. Monk seemed to understand this, as he was sniffing at his brother. They seemed to hit it off as they proceeded to play with each other.

Dr. Tamara and I proceeded to our dinner, and it was a lovely night. We were always together after that, while Monk and Bob were happy that they were together as well.

I often think of how thankful I was to Monk that he loved going to the vet, especially now that Dr. Tamara and I have been married for five years and still going strong.

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