One of my favorite things to do while driving is trying to figure out the meaning of vanity plates. You know the ones I’m talking about – the owner pays extra to say something special on their license plate up to eight letters. But with only eight letters they have to really work at it to create any kind of meaning. […]
My ape has been very busy lately. To earn my Purina I volunteered to write this week’s article. I wanted to show some of the sights around the compound, so I asked to borrow his camera phone. I sure hope he doesn’t mind the tooth marks I left on the iPhone case. How else was I supposed to carry it? […]
We knew last night someone was in trouble when the ape brought that carrier cage from the basement. I looked at Roswell and he looked at me, both of us hoping it was the other one’s turn to go to the vet. Its too bad neither of us can read because there’s a name tag on the side of the carrier with a name on it. I was pretty sure it was my turn because it looked like the smaller cage that didn’t fit Roswell.
It got worse this morning when no one was letting us outside. What did we do to deserve this? After the ape with the high voice left we thought maybe they forgot. But the other one began wiping out the inside of the cage and put in a clean towel. I tried to look innocent in my cat bed but finally he picked me up and before I knew it shoved me, butt first, into the cage and carried me out to the car.
All the way to the vet I prayed to Bast that we weren’t really going there. Then I started thinking of much worse places to go so I just kept quiet and hoped he’d forget I was back there…no such luck.
What is it about apes that at the same time they say what a beautiful animal you are, they treat you so bad? The entire time they were cutting my claws they were saying what a good boy I am. If they think I’m so good why are they doing this in the first place? Again I realize it could be worse, some clown cut Roswell’s entire finger tips off years ago so he doesn’t have claws. At least mine will grow back and believe me I know just how I’m going to use them.
Then the real torture started when they started shoving pills down my throat. Well this wasn’t my first rodeo and I was able to give up quite a fight. These pills are totally unnecessary. I don’t eat worms! I eat birds and mice. Why do I need a dewormer?
One more needle in the butt and I was more than ready to go back in the cage. I think I’ll go take a nice long nap this afternoon and when I wake up I’ll be ready to make my ape let me chase the red dot.
This is the fifth ( and last ) part of a mostly true serialization. Embellishments have been used to emphasize the facts. Descriptive elements have been used in lieu of names to protect everyone’s right to privacy.
Part 5: Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco, Then Home
During breakfast the next day, we wondered about how to get back to San Francisco, the airport and what time we needed to be there. The Coed pulls out her ever-present phone and starts doing web searches to get some answers. […]
While the rest of us were taking in the view from our rooms at the inn, and drinking two-year-old, complimentary wine (ok, not everything was perfect), Snowball and her uncle went out in search of Dramamine to smooth out the squiggly seaside roads we knew were still waiting for us. […]