Bright and early this morning I was unceremoniously stuffed into the Pet Taxi and taken to the evil vet. This is the evil vet who is not really quite so evil, and who always wears Birkenstock sandals. This is good to know in case I decide I no longer like him--because I could easily jump from the examination table and bite his toes and ankles.
He looked me over and did some blood work on me. I cannot be quite certain, but he seemed to be speaking to Softie and the British One about possibly sedating me and then having a go at my teeth and nappy dreads.
I don't think I like the idea of someone messing around with my teeth. The last time this happened I ended up missing three teeth and my back and front legs didn't want to cooperate properly for the evening.
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