Veterinarian Cat-astrophy
I took my cat to the veterinarians this past weekend, and I have it now on authority that I am the proud owner of the world’s healthiest cat. Of course, in order to receive this official confirmation of my pets excellent health condition from a notarized professional and further validate what I already knew before taking the little beast to the vets in the first place…it was to cost me $160!
Along with the usual bevy of tests involving the poking, the prodding and all the necessary vaccinations, etc…I was then informed that my cat is an “above average cat”. WTF? “Above average"? For $160 fucking dollars I’d better be told that my cat is a fucking feline superstar! Did I really need to spend $160 to find that out? Shit, I could have saved myself the $160 and told you that already! My cat lives a better quality of life than I currently do, so why shouldn’t my little furball be anything other than the perfect fucking picture of health? “Thanks, Dr. Doolittle! Your check is in the mail!”
Even the little turd sample I was requested to provide seemed to generate little to no extra excitement whatsoever! In fact, nobody even really cared that I had a ziplock baggie of cat poop in my pocket at all! I was hoping they were going to pin it up as part of the kitty collage on the ‘Community Bulletin Board’ behind the secretary’s desk. But, oh no!
I wonder what kind of results I’d receive if I were ever to have spent that $160 on myself instead for a medical checkup? The tests alone would probably have had me wisked away to some underground military research facility in the Nevada dessert somewhere with about a dozen locked up howler monkeys and a team of scientists in air-tight radioactive containment suits!
Along with the usual bevy of tests involving the poking, the prodding and all the necessary vaccinations, etc…I was then informed that my cat is an “above average cat”. WTF? “Above average"? For $160 fucking dollars I’d better be told that my cat is a fucking feline superstar! Did I really need to spend $160 to find that out? Shit, I could have saved myself the $160 and told you that already! My cat lives a better quality of life than I currently do, so why shouldn’t my little furball be anything other than the perfect fucking picture of health? “Thanks, Dr. Doolittle! Your check is in the mail!”
Even the little turd sample I was requested to provide seemed to generate little to no extra excitement whatsoever! In fact, nobody even really cared that I had a ziplock baggie of cat poop in my pocket at all! I was hoping they were going to pin it up as part of the kitty collage on the ‘Community Bulletin Board’ behind the secretary’s desk. But, oh no!
I wonder what kind of results I’d receive if I were ever to have spent that $160 on myself instead for a medical checkup? The tests alone would probably have had me wisked away to some underground military research facility in the Nevada dessert somewhere with about a dozen locked up howler monkeys and a team of scientists in air-tight radioactive containment suits!
posted by crazytigerrabbitman at
8:49 PM
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