by You know how some people have problems with their teeth no matter what they do? Poor Finney is like this. I take him for teeth cleaning once a year, but still he has teeth problems. He just had to have three teeth pulled, the poor baby. Here he is, back, hanging out on the desk and giving me a look like, “Yeah, so, what was that about?” I have to give him this God-awful medicine for ten days now. Please don’t hate me Finn. It makes me think of that line in the Nancy Mitford book The Pursuit of Love. The children felt bad for their dogs who had to stay in the kennel. They worried that they would become bored and lonely and cry, “Oh, why can’t dogs read?”
Why oh why can’t cats talk? I long to explain to him why I have to give him this horrible tasting liquid, and bring him to the vet from time to time even though it scares him so. It breaks my heart.
Poor Finney. I know what you mean though. My late cat, Mr. Max, used to just freak out whenever I’d take him to the vet. I’d do my best to explain it was to keep/get him healthy but he’d look up at me with the ‘what did i do to deserve this?’ look that would make me feel horrible.
Exactly. I long to explain to them. I want them to understand!