How's this for a cool evening? Last night Kat and I partied hard at the Pet Emergency Clinic.We came home to find Peggy, Kat's cat, drooling profusely and looking generally baked. Worried that she had ingested some sort of toxin, we headed over to the 24-hour emergency pet clinic. Upon arriving, dorky receptionist gave Kat forms to fill out.
As Kat fills out the forms and stuffs giant wads of Kleenex under Peggy's leaky mouth, I pick up an issue of Life & Style. I comment loudly to our waiting area comrades that Brittney Spears was looking Amazing, what the hell happened. Henry the collie's aunt pointed out to me that the issue was from early 2005. Feeling embarrassed, (yet relieved that i could rest assured that good-ole Brittney is still making me look good) I slunk back to quietly ponder the celebrity gossip of yester-year.
After this exchange, the silence was broken and annoying cat family took their cue to start chatting away. A few minutes later Stupid British woman came in with a Chihuahua that had eaten part of a brownie. She said he was shaking, which he never did. They rushed him back to begin treatment, knocking our drooling cat further down the priority line. The Chihuahua was just fine.
Next a pug came in that had been sting by a bee. His wealthy rock-star type parents were beyond distraught, still crying when we left.
As Kat finished filling out forms, dorky receptionist came over. She was apparently struck by the Hyundai-size pile of wet tissues, and decided that maybe we weren't just retarded, and that maybe there was something wrong. She then asked us if the cat ingested anything illegal? Perhaps some herb?
Kat looked at this woman like she was the dumbest person on earth. While we had to admit that Peggy looked pretty baked, did she honestly think that IF we had marijuana we would let the cat have it? Seriously. No on both fronts.
Next, as we peed our pants laughing at an article in Cat Fancy on how to pet your cat; "The 5 Best Places to Pet Your Cat," "Become an all-star petter," a Chinese crested came in. If you are unfamiliar with the breed, it looks like this.
This particular one had almost no hair, and a good two inches of tongue sticking out of the side of it's mouth. This one looked more like this.
But had his tongue sticking out like this:
I thought this dog was seriously, deathly ill. I thought it was beyond repair, beyond recovery. As I squished my face from maniacal laughter into fained sympathy, Kat managed an "Oh my god, what happened?"
"Something is bothering his foot."
I am serious, that is what was wrong. no big deal, his foot was just bothering him. Kat elbows me in the side, "Nothing is wrong with him, that is just how he is."
Calming ourselves down (more out of the necessity of buttug's dog mom sitting there than the humor subsiding; it is still funny) we continued reading Cat fancy.
Here is where I make the second most important discovery of my life: Dogs are Not the only type of animal that comes in short. It is true, short-legged-creature-lovers are no longer bound to Corgis, midgets, and dachshunds, you can now buy...drum roll please...(I know you know what is coming.)
I know, I can hardly contain my excitement. I want one SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOo bad.
After we were seen, Peggy got three shots, I did a dance for the camera, we chatted with a male vet tech, and I wrote "Peggy was here" on the white board, it was midnight. Although we were annoyed with the vet who talked baby talk at us and went out to smoke in the middle of the exam, I will still say that all in all it wasn't a bad evening.
