Not My Kitty

It wasn’t my fault and the cat is all right.

Seriously. Who puts a cat on the floor in a veterinarian’s office, right next to the door that leads to the examining room?

And what Canine worthy of the name wouldn’t assume, just as I did, that it was a present?

I mean, there it was. The vet tech opened the door to let me and Mom out and there was this kitty, all nicely wrapped up in a pretty little pink nylon tote bag with a only a zippered screen between me and him. It sure looked like a present.

Mom says I should stop right here, that there is no point in dwelling on the stupidity of people who don’t take their pets’ safety seriously. She says a vet’s waiting room is a fun place for hoomans but it’s full of danger for animals. Mom also says to tell you that I never actually touched the feline, just knocked the pretty pink tote bag around a little bit. Of course, I *had* plans to touch the cat, but Mom has a strong left arm and she pulled me away. She took me outside and put me in the car and then she went back into the vet’s office to check on the kitty.

After she made sure the feline was okay, Mom did one more thing. She told that cat lady where she should put her kitty.

AAARRROOOOOOOO!