Thursday, May 8, 2014

A Visit to the Vet


That was just...that was...that--

How could they do me like that?


You wouldn't believe what...I mean, here I was up on a table, and she...she took this...this--


Look at this picture Angel took. Yeah, I know it's shakey. Get over it. She was scared out of her mind. Plus she doesn't have an opposable thumb. She did the best she could.


So right after Angel snapped the pic, this so-called vet reached into her pocket and...


...a needle. A giant +&##* needle!

 *#!!ing %@*##!!!

Took my blood. Took my freaking blood like some vampire chick! And that wasn't the worst of it. She...she...she...then she got out this, this long glass tube--a thermosomething, she called it. And then she...she shoved it...GAH, I can't even say it!

You're not supposed to shove stuff up there!

And while I was up on the table, poor Angel was waiting for her turn. Look at her. 

This is not a happy Chihuey. Poor baby was terrified. Look at how big her eyes are.

I'm sorry. I can't go on. This...this was just too much for me. I don't believe I'll ever recover. How could they do that to me? I am so traumatized. I'll never be able to--

Wait. Was that the rustle of the treat bag?

What? What do you mean the vet said I was fat? I weigh less than ten pounds, you idiot. Gimme my damn treats!


This has not been a good day.


* Thanks to the lovely and talented NinaK for the inspiring Puppy Proctology Pic that heads up this post. Nina, you never disappoint. 


  1. The beard face man should give those pups each a T-bone...rare.

    1. Why, thank you, Miss Nina. I agree. Maybe even two T-bones.

      Um, what's a T-bone?

  2. Poor Stewie. A treat would have made it all better. I feel bad now for recommending that you eat Angel's food. And I don't think you look fat. Just...really, really well nourished.

    Angel, you do look frightened, but also stunning. Who does your fur?

    1. Damn straight, Miss Cassandra. Bastige wouldn't even open the package after he rattled it. And he ain't exactly no Twiggy himself, either.


      Angel here, Miss Cass. Stealing Stewies bandwith as always.


      Why, thank you for your nice fur comment. You know, I didn't think I wanted my fur, um, done, but I do like the way it turned out. I think my furdresser's name was...let me think now...Starbright. She seemed strangely disconnected from the world and smelled of clove cigarettes and Columbian cannabis, not that I would have any idea what that would smell like.

  3. That's so horrible Stewie. Never trust a human...except at snack time. And sofa time. And play-park time. Okay, maybe they aren't so bad. They just don't know any better. You can't expect them to have dog-smarts after all. Someone should write a manual; How to Train Your Human. I hope you both recover soon, So traumatic. **whispers** Stewie, suck in your gut before you beg. Hehe (((LICKS)))

  4. Replies
    1. Miss Lori. You do understand.

      I understand you have two non-humans you interact with from time to time--one Sam, who I'm sure is a fine upstanding representative of his species, and one "Baby," who shall I say it...a cat. Well I wouldn't wish what I had to go through on a cat either. May they both stay healthy and avoid the need for alien probes.


  5. Oh, thanks, Tiffi. You know you're right about humans. I tried to trust one at snack time once, but he pulled his hand back. Apparently he objected to being snacked upon. I mean, who knew?

    Anyhow, I hope you avoid any trips to the vet and never, ever let them kind you into believing you're going to the spa.

    (((licks back)))