Today, Zaphod (the cat) bid farewell to her lady bits. No more going into heat! Yay!
She is doing fine, thank you, and is currently hiding under the bed, giving me dirty looks. I would give me dirty looks, too, if I were her.
But the real story is about what happened when I tried to pay the bill at the vet. My debit card was declined (I fixed it later, no worries), I don’t have a credit card because I’m a luddite, and they don’t take checks. The ladies working at the vet were not amused. No, they could not mail me the bill (even though we’d paid them for several other procedures in the past). They suggested that I go to the nearest bank machine and get them cash (not a really long walk, but far enough, especially with Zaphod crying in her crate behind the counter).
Then, a man standing behind me offered to give me a ride to the bank machine. Normally, I would have been wary of such an offer, but the vet assured me that he was a dependable sort of person, and I decided that anyone who buys fancy canned food for his five cats can’t be a bad person.
And I was right, because he actually paid for Zaphod’s surgery, drove me to the bank machine so I could get cash to pay him back, and then drove me home! He told me all about the siamese cats he bought his wife for Christmas-there were three for adoption, and he couldn’t just get one, because it would have been intimidated by his other cats, and he couldn’t get two, because the third would be lonesome. So he got all three!
Isn’t this all just to warm and fuzzy for words?
Speaking of warm and fuzzy, Aslan (the other cat) is sitting up on my lap person-style (with back legs out in front and belly exposed) and is watching me type. He’s going to start correcting my spelling next!