My Pawly Paw

What do you think is worse having a hurting paw or going to the vet? I think I would prefer a hurting paw. I definitely didn’t want both of them so where did I go wrong that ended with me hopping round a vet’s room and then a needle in my back? I never told them my paw hurt. I never complained or whined – not once – so why did they grab me and stuff me in that horrible cat carrier?

They started paying a lot of attention to me soon after it started hurting. That amount of attention is usually a bad thing so I tried to run out but they had locked the catflap and were picking me up, looking at my paw, feeling my leg – “get off! get off! get off!…” Eventually after a lot of banging on the cat flap they let me out but when I slinked in later with my mouse even that didn’t pacify them

The vet did her usual prodding and poking – I sat there frightened then they put me on the floor. I tried not to limp too much and thought I could run away – I did try in true Morgan style but they picked me back up and plonked me on the table for inspection. It took me the rest of the evening to get over this unpleasant incident it traumatised me. Then they started doing purr-culier things like locking me in the house and making me eat ham. Well it tasted like ham and smelt like ham but had this weird gooey bit on the top of it. Well I munched it all up whatever it was.

Oh yes, thank you, my paw is a lot better now.