Last Wednesday, I was once again at the vets. This time, Hermoine accompanied me and Meowmie. Hermoine was there for her annual check up and I was there because Meowmie thinks I may be becoming anaemic. We did not see my usual vet. He is on a snowboarding holiday in Canada. A few months ago he went to Africa for a safari and beach holiday. I guess he must get well paid for being a vet. Instead, we saw a lady vet called Zoe. Behind her consulting room is the place where all animals who have to stay in are kept. On the day Hermoine and I were examined, there was a d*g in this place who appeared not to be enjoying his stay. For the best part of our hour-long consultation he moaned and howled. We were unimpressed by his baritone voice and vibrato.

While Zoe was examining Hermoine, I sat silently in my covered basket on the floor next to Meowmie, hoping that me not making a sound would make her forget I was there. However, just in case she did not forget, I kept my ears open so that I could judge from the sound of her voice what kind of vet Zoe was. She appeared to be a kindly vet. She spoke quietly in an unhurried way and freely complimented Hermoine on her beautiful yellow-green eyes and shiny black coat. As Hermoine is proud of her looks, she would have been flattered by Zoe's comments. I also noted that Zoe was very thorough with her examination. I heard her comment on Hermoine's heart rate, her lungs, her teeth, the brightness of her eyes and the cleanliness of the inside of her ears and ask Meowmie whether she had any concerns about Hermoine's health. At the end of her examination, Hermoine would have been delighted to hear Zoe report that she is in excellent health.

Once Hermoine was safely back in her basket, Meowmie opened mine. I tried to make it difficult for her to get me out by clinging to my sheepskin blanket but Meowmie just lifted it out with me. I then tried to make it very hard for Zoe to examine me properly by insisting that I lie flat on her table. Unfortunately, this did not deter Zoe from her work. It only slowed her down.

Unlike Hermoine, I received very few compliments about my appearance. I admit that I am a little thin and that my fur is now always untidy but it is wrong of hoomins to call me a bag of bones or to pass disparaging remarks about my fur. Happily, Zoe did neither. She simply admired my eyes which I think are my best feature. They are large, pale green, soft and rimmed with black eyeliner.

After weighing me, Zoe spent a long time talking to Meowmie and stroking me before beginning her examination. She asked all sorts of very personal questions like: How is Gemma eating? Is she being sick? Have her toileting habits changed? She then listened to my heart and felt my tummy. She was a little worried by the number of lumps she felt. She then checked my gums and agreed with Meowmie that it appeared I was slightly anaemic. However, she said she could not be sure unless she sent some of my blood off for analysis. And so I had blood taken from my neck. While Zoe explained to Meowmie why I might be anaemic, I was returned to my basket. Hermoine started crying when she saw me. I don't know whether she was just pleased to see me or just fed up with waiting to go home. Whatever the reason, happily, we did eventually go home.

On Saturday, Zoe rang with the results of my blood tests. She was very pleased with most of the results but a little worried by my protein level. She could not be sure why it had fallen below the normal range and advised Meowmie that a close eye would need to be kept on it. She then told Meowmie that the lab had been unable to carry out the test required for anaemia because someone or something had screwed up my blood sample. Hissspit. Now, they want more blood.

As Meowmie is now familiar with all the places where I usually hide when I try to avoid going to the vets, between now and my next appointment on Monday morning I shall search for a place where she will never think to look for me.

Mews and purrs
Gemma

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Copyright © Sheenah Large
February 17, 2003