I Don’t Think I’m Allowed at the Vet Office Anymore

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Remember like, a week ago, when I wrote about taking Lemon to the vet and making an ass out of myself with a cute vet tech? For a refresher you can visit the post: How Are You Still Single? Oh, That Makes Sense

Well, I wrote that under the impression that all of my vet needs had been met and I wouldn’t have to return for a while. You know, so everyone could forget that I’m an awkward toad that needs to be stopped.

Burger really went there and said, “Bet, bitch.”

She’s had a bit of a cold for longer than the internet recommends and I was at my limit for the number of times a living being could sneeze in my face. I had originally made her an appointment for the weekend but when I returned from not being murdered at the movies, I discovered she had been pulling her fur out.

Seriously, it looked like a cat had exploded in the apartment.

I ended up getting her a last minute appointment for the following day. It was a drop off appointment as opposed to a “sit and wait” one but I knew Burger could handle it. For Lemon, I had taken time off of work to take her to the vet and sit and wait because I know how much she hates everything and everyone (much like her father).

Burger, on the other hand, is the queen of the damn world and I was more concerned that she would take over the building and become their new ruler.

Thankfully, the vet tech I was dealing with this time around was NOT the cute one but I did see him through a window working in the back so there was still potential of me making an ass out of myself. Shockingly, I was able to drop Burger off with little incident though it’s always something fun when I introduce her to a new vet.

You see, Burger had a portion of her intestines removed when she was a kitten and as a result, she has been very small her entire life. Every time I take her to a new vet, their immediate reaction is “HOLY SHIT, YOU CAT IS NOT OKAY!” So I needed to explain that to the tech.

There’s also the fact that Burger firmly believes that she is a parrot and wants nothing more than to be sitting pretty on someone’s shoulder. It’s actually something I have to warn everyone about who comes to visit my home. Whether you like it or not, you’re going to end up with a cat on you. And it’s going to be Burger.

With all of that said, I left my precious angel with the vet and went about my day… meaning I went to work.

All went well until pick-up time.

There was a bit of a wait when I got back to the vet’s office and so I was standing there, minding my own business, when overly-attractive vet tech emerges from the back and graces us all with his presence. We made eye contact and for some, wild reason, I turned into a awkward teenage girl from every young adult rom-com ever made and went with this move:

As if this man had any damn clue who I was. The LOOK I received from him. It was one of confusion and possibly fear.

He likely went to the back and, upon reflection, recalled, “oh, that’s the tired guy with possible diarrhea.”

 This is, in fact, what I have written in my Tinder bio.

(I don’t have tinder)

I retrieved my cat and we went about our day, me wishing that I could jump off a tall building and Burger having successfully made everyone in the office fall in love with her… I need to learn her secrets.

As for the official diagnosis, I’m going to be honest in that I’m not satisfied with the service we ultimately received because we’re still having issues. I feel like I paid $100 for her to hang out at the vet’s office all day but no one bothered to look her over for anything. She’s still over-grooming and sneezing and their opinion was “she’s stressed because you went on vacation.”

Therefore, I have a feeling we will be ending up back there again soon and hopefully I can get some real answers and be less awkward.

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