Going to the doctor, again.

I had to go to the hospital. I’m allergic to fleas. The woman takes pride in keeping the fleas off of me, but one must have found its way on and bit me. Anyway, I itched and itched and scratched and scratched and then she put medicine on it and tried putting booties on my paws to stop the itching, but that didn’t work. So, she called the vet and he made an appointment.

I tried not to get in the carrier, cause I know when I get in there something bad is about to happen. But, she tricked me by throwing whore doll in and I followed and then she took whore doll out. She said she didn’t want the doctor to think we were letting our baby play with misogynistic toys.

Anyway, then we were in the car and I cried and then we were in the office and I cried and then we were on the examining table and I hid under the woman’s arms. The doctor said that I had to have shots and stay overnight for treatment cause I am real allergic. So, the woman was sad and said but she doesn’t have her pillow or a soft blanket and the doctor said she could go home and bring something back and the woman said, I’ll leave my shirt and she went into another room and took off her soft t-shirt that I like so well and put it on the table and I snuggled on it and then that doctor gave me two shots in my hips. Ouch!

The woman left and I thought I’s never going to see her again and I’s glad she left me the shirt.
Later, they gave me a shot that knocked me out and then they shaved my hair off of my neck and put a lot of medicine on me and gave me more shots and when I woke up, the woman was there. I meowed and meowed and even when the doctor was talking to her and telling her how good I was and how much better I was and how it wasn’t her fault, I meowed and the woman said, baby, shh! But I couldn’t shh. Not on the way home, not when she put the carrier on the bed, and not when I ran through the house looking for whore doll, and not even when I sat on the litter box. I meowed and meowed.