Tommy, Veteran of Foreign Vets

In the car, on the way home.

I had to take the Commish in for a checkup today, and he panted and howled for the entire twenty minute drive to the vet's office. It wasn't until I took him out of the pet carrier that he began to settle down and behave like the calm, wise little owl he's starting to become. Surprisingly, he somehow weighed in at thirteen pounds! Most of that must be fur.

We started up with a new vet, recommended by longtime pal Jenniferda the Nerda. When the assistant came in to take his temperature, he didn't flinch at all. It was almost disconcerting. She even commented on his passive acceptance of the thermometer. I felt compelled to respond myself. I almost said, "Well, it looks like all that time we spent practicing this with the ball point pen paid off!"

But instead I said nothing.