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 like each other. He calls
my husband El-cheap-O. My husband calls him El-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.
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(cat) 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.
