We really couldn’t get a good picture of it, but they shaved her poor little chin. From the right angle, it looks like her lower jaw was removed or something – I hadn’t realized just how thick her fur is. Not only did they shave her chin and give her a shot, but we also have to give her oral medication, wash her chin twice a day, and put medicine on it. It’s going surprisingly well, probably because there are two of us doing it. I said to Fred last night “You’re not allowed to die before me, because there’s just no way in hell I could give the cats their medicine without you to help me.” How do people do it without help? I mean, if you’ll recall, I wasn’t even able to get a pill down the throat of Tubby while Fred was recovering from surgery and he had to do it. I’m useless when it comes to certain things, I’ll admit it. When Fred got back from the vet, Miz Poo got out of the box, her eyes big and dark and her ears held out to the sides, as if there was something not right, but she just couldn’t put her paw on it. She followed me around from room to room and then sat and stared at me, as though I held the answer. My poor baby! Fred and I compared this vet’s bill to the one we got when he took Fancypants a few months ago, and saw that the new vet charges less for almost everything – including a single charge of $30 for the office visit and examination. The old vet charged $17 for the office visit, and another $20 for the examination. PLUS, they gave Fred the name of someone who’ll come feed the cats while we’re in Gatlinburg in October, so we don’t have to impose on his father to do it. Too cool. * * * Currently reading: Mother of Pearl, and likin’ it, to my surprise. I’ve been eyeballing it as I drew closer and closer to it (y’know I’m still trying to finish off the shelf of books I started a few months ago), thinking “Oh maaaan. I don’t REALLY want to read that, do I?” I mean, it’s one of the Oprah’s book club books. But I’m really liking it more than I thought possible. I guess there’s more to life than Zany Chick books. Not that Zany Chick books don’t have their place, but you can’t live on a steady diet of Zany Chick books any more than you can survive on a diet of Ring Dings and whoopie pies. Well. Maybe you could, and you’d probably die happy… Okay. Shut up, Robyn.]]>