I know most of you have pets, so I won’t remind you that having pets is like having children who can’t tell you where it hurts. A few months ago I spent a week agonizing over my cat Jinx, who was losing the fur from her tail and hind quarters. There were welts all over the exposed skin. I couldn’t stand it any longer, so I informed my boss that I would be a little late for work due to a necessary trip to the vet. Luckily my boss is a cat person too.
I made the appointment for 8:00 a.m. in hopes of getting it over with and still be able to make it to work at 9:00. It didn’t take the vet long to determine that Jinx is allergic to fleas. Fleas? My cats are never outside. I suppose a flea hitched a ride on me when I was outside. The vet said they only found one flea. RIGHT! Having just one flea is like going into a southern restaurant and ordering one grit. That just isn’t going to happen!
I wasn’t too warped out of shape until they handed me the bill for $147.00. I lost it! “$147.00 for ONE flea, I protested.” Then I demanded, “I want the body. I’m going to take it to a taxidermist, have it mounted, then tour the world with it billed as ‘The World’s Most Valuable Flea.” PT Barnum would have thought this was the flea to die for. After studying the bill closer I saw that it was also for the office call, Jinx’ shot, antihistamine skin lotion, and pills to treat my other two cats as well.
Well, dear hearts, with my luck the ONE flea that hitched a ride on my clothing was probably a female in the family way, so I spent that weekend shampooing carpets and doing a thorough house cleaning. After this I may never darken the entry to another flea market. Lord knows, I don’t need another flea; I’ve spent all I intend to spend on that ONE! Allie
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Allie’s Fun with Furry Facts!
The Labrador dog is from Newfoundland and the Newfoundland dog is from Labrador. Go figure!
The Xoloitzcuintli is the national dog of Mexico. So, what could you name one of these south of the border dogs; surely not “Fido,” “Spot,” or “Old Blue.” That would be like naming a hound dog Huitzilopochtli. Can you imagine hanging out your door hollering, “Here Huitzilopochtli, here boy,” or worse the looks you’d get at the vet when the attendant announced “Huitzilopochtli Smith is next.” Allie
Postscript: I haven’t the heart to make you look it up, so I’ll tell you that Huitzilopochtli was the Aztec god of the hunt.
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Dear Readers,
Speaking of hunting, I’m forever hunting for new and exciting stories about love affairs and happy endings where shelter animals finally get their wish for a forever family. Won’t you share all the happiness with us at allie4katz@gmail.com?
