Siamese Cringe

Got my finger x-rayed today at the vet -it’s the only place to get an x-ray as far as I’m concerned. While waiting to discover the good news that it’s not broken, I witnessed one of the more unpleasant scenes of my 2005: a Siamese cat being rectally examined and then having his ingrown nails clipped. Talk about a double-whammy of discomfort. The continuous, guttural, drone that the cat released as his tail was lifted and his privacy invaded is a sound the likes of which I hope never to hear again. It made my alarm clock buzzer seem like the delicate jingle of a warm evening breeze passing through a wind chime. His miserable moan was accented by staccato hisses while his nails were being cut. During both procedures one person had to restrain the cat while another did the dirty work. And you thought you were having a rough day. Right before I left a world-weary and gimpy German Shepard got a nice little gloved hand up the butt. Then I went to meet some friends for lunch. Boy had my appetite been whetted.

Well, I couldn’t possibly aspire to improve upon the insight, and sophistication of what I just wrote, so I might as well exit on a high note, a la George Costanza. This post is dedicated to regular check-ups and the men and women who perform them. Kudos bars!