Not quite. Kitty is demanding, touchy, and temperamental.
Like most cats, Kitty naps. Unlike most cats, when she wakes she shakes her head vigorously, sliming everything in the surrounding area. We're not talking a little spray here, friends, but amounts of wetness that lead one to first wonder where she keeps it all inside that tiny head, and second where a towel might be. I usually say something loud as well.
So I decide I've had enough. It's time for the vet. As I reach for the phone, I imagine the exam in my mind. I have a very good imagination.
The vet says, "Well, she seems healthy enough. I wonder if it's allergies."
Uh oh. I know more than a little about allergies. I know what comes next.
"Does she do this after anything in particular?" the vet asks. "What do you feed her? You might want to consider trying a new food, see if that helps. Give it a month or so and check back."
"Okay," I say. "We'll give that a try."
And there it is: the vet visit has taken place in my mind. No need to schedule or stuff Kitty in a box for transit. Quite convenient.
So I switch Kitty to some new and expensive cat food. (Not in my head, no, but thanks for checking.) High protein, low carbs, and no grains. As the (yes, imaginary) vet suggests, I give it a few weeks.
A few weeks go by and by golly Kitty is no longer a snot machine. She still shakes her head but nothing goes flying. Now she's merely demanding, touchy, and temperamental.
I'm impressed. Points to my imagination. Well done. Have a kitty treat.
Hurrah! Your imaginary vet is pretty smart.ReplyDelete
She *is*! Maybe if we can imagine people clearly enough, we can sometimes do without them. I'm not sure where that goes, logically, but at least in this case, it saved time, money, and howling felines.ReplyDelete