One hot July day we found an old straggly cat at our door. She
was a sorry sight. Starving, dirty, smelled terrible, skinny and
hair all matted down. We felt sorry for her and put her in a
carrier and took her to the vet. She had no name so we named her
Pussycat.
The vet decided to keep her for a day or so and said he would let
us know when we could come and get her. My husband, [the
complainer] said, "OK, but don't forget to wash her, she stinks."
My husband and my vet don't see eye to eye. He calls my husband
El-cheap-O. My husband calls him Take-0. They love to hate each
other.
Next day my husband had an appointment with his doctor, which was
located next door to the vet. The doctor's office was full of
people waiting to see the doctor. In the midst of the waiting room
crowd, a side door opened and in leaned the vet; he had obviously
seen my husband arrive.
He looked straight at my husband, "Your wife's pussy is finally
clean and shaved. She now smells like a rose. And by the way, I
think she's pregnant. God knows who the father is!" And he closed
the door.
