Friday, 27 November 2009

The Bloke Who Sticks Needles In Me Once a Year!

Greetings readers. Had a very quiet day so far. Not much has happened really, so I thought I would tell you about someone I really dislike. I refer to him as "the bloke who sticks needles in me once a year" - I think he has some spurious medical qualification, a failed doctor I expect.
Anyway before I get on to that you'll never believe what "my poncy brother" Tabby has been up to. Are there no depths he won't plumb in order to curry favour with the "pretty one". I crept back in earlier, when he thought he had the place to himself and spied on the proceedings. He was sitting on "the pretty one's" lap, purring away, even licking her. Nauseous to watch, but far worse was to follow. There is a footstool in the lounge shaped like a great big ball. Well, to show off, Tabby only goes and balances on the top, with that "look at me, aren't I clever look" on his smug face. I was hoping so much he would fall off, but no - "the pretty one" was overwhelmed with admiration, so much so that she gave him extra prawns. Her gullibility is totally beyond belief. I mean, I could have stood on top of the ball on one leg if such a stunt was not beneath contempt. Now that's got that off my chest, back to todays little story.

Once a year, without fail, all three of us are crated up and taken in the car to a little place just down the road. When we get there, we have to wait in this very smelly room - sometimes there are even dogs there. Fancy me having to wait in the same room as a dog. When we got there last year, I think they must have been at lunch, because there was a sign on the door saying "back in five minutes - SIT! STAY! ". Eventually we were taken in to another room that smelt of disinfectant. One by one we were taken out of our cages by this nasty, sweaty little man - "the bloke who sticks needles in us once a year" - I hate him.

"Better give them there annual check up first" he said in a threatening manner. He grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and dragged me out of the cage. He looked in my eyes, my ears, my mouth, up my nose and in other places I am too polite to mention. He groped me all over in fact and then said in a cruel voice "I'm afraid I am going to have to put him down!". I was horrified. "The pretty one" said, "but I only brought him in for a check up - why do you have to put him down?" "Because he's very heavy" he replied with an evil smile on his face. Oh very funny I thought, the shock nearly killed me - I mean fancy saying I was heavy - you can imagine the problems that caused, talk of diets, smaller portions, etc... I may have to resort to hunting - how many calories are there in a mouse I wonder!

Anyway, he then sticks a needle in me. "The pretty one" said to him "does that hurt", to which he replied "only if I stick it in my finger". Tabby and Ginger Tail then had to go through the same rigmarole before he stamped our three cards and we were put back in our cages and unceremoniously ushered out of the door back into the smelly room full of dogs. The lady behind the counter gave "the one I don't trust" a piece of paper that he looked at and shook his head before offering her a small piece of plastic, which she greedily grabbed. He always finds this a rather traumatic moment. "Enter the PIN" she said. I thought I was in for another jab!!! As we left, he was muttering something about daylight robbery and fat cats - I trust this was not a reference to me.

There is a lot more I can tell you about this place, but that will have to wait for another day. If I remember rightly, we are due to go again in a few weeks time. Must keep my ears open - they are bound to let on. I will keep you posted.

Well that's my lot for this week. I intend to spend the weekend mulling over the problems you have sent me for my inaugural agony column - Ask Bert, I am going to call it. There are some real corkers, really embarrassing some of them - don't worry George in Manchester, your secret is safe with me! If you have any questions you would like to ask me, it is not too late. I trust you all have a nice weekend. What a life! Albert(the not that heavy)Cat.


  1. The bloke with the needles is just a wimp. You are obviously not that heavy!

  2. Wow, what a miserable couple of days you've had, having to deal with your brother's showing off, and then being assaulted with bad jokes and needles by some guy in a white coat who apparently got kicked out of stand-up comedians' school. At least you won't have to see that guy again for a year. Your brother, on the other hand, I imagine will continue to be a thorn in your side.

  3. We believe you aren't that heavy, Albert. It's all that fur that deceives the man with the needle.

  4. Pfft, you are perfect size.

    (how is your bootiful sister?)

  5. That's terrible. To think they charge for sticking needles in you and touching you in places that you can't even mention. The nerve, at least you won't have to see them for another year.