Saturday morning was spent at the vet’s office, as the furry one is again under the weather.
He drew no blood this time, but he’s not exactly endearing himself to the staff (or Gus, the office cat, who was a little freaked out by the sounds coming from the exam room). Yep, he had to have the muzzle again, and be wrapped in a towel so the vet could examine him and take some blood, and he was NOT happy. I think he finally stopped growling by the time we got home (and there were a few snorts too … sounded like a bull). He got some antibiotics after bloodwork showed his white count was high, and he spent the rest of the day resting and getting a little bit of food and a lot of water in him.

You’d better sleep with one eye open, lady. (The glare of death actually got worse after he got the antibiotic shot, but I didn’t get a picture of that because the nurse and I were laughing too much.)
Hopefully he’ll be feeling much better now … and maybe forgive me for taking him to “the bad place.”
But he’s not alone in not being a fan of the vet’s office. He can take solace in that anyway.







