Softie and the British One seem to be feeling better today, no doubt due to the excellent care and attention I've given them the past few days.
And how do they repay me? By taking me to a new vet today. How's THAT for gratitude? I may never tend to them when they are ill again!
So this new vet. He wasn't so bad really, and the trip in the dreaded metal monster was very short indeed. In fact, I suspect we could walk to the new vet--but I'm not going to suggest it to them.
The new vet didn't prod and poke at me, and there was nothing put in my bum to take my temperature. For this, I already like him a lot better than my old vet. He also talked to Softie and the British One about my diet, and actually urged them to continue to ply me with delicious diced chicken, because he said my weight was up from what it used to be. I don't know how he could know this, because he's never seen me before, but he did have a massive amount of papers he kept referring to. He looked at my teeth, and checked my heart and thyroid and said everything checked out okay. He was friendly too, and laid back. Did I happen to mention that he URGED THEM TO CONTINUE TO PLY ME WITH DELICIOUS DICED CHICKEN?
Plus I noticed he wears hippie sandals, so if he ever starts recommending hospital food and I decide that I don't like him anymore, I can always attack his ankles and bite his toes.