Late last week, one of my neighbor kitty friends, Bo Diddley (named after the late, great rock ‘n roller), went to a specialty vet for something called a colonoscopy. Apparently, some of his litter box deposits were not quite up to par, if you know what I mean.
Now, from what I understand (I checked it out on Web MD.com), a colonoscopy involves shoving a little camera up the ol’ wazoo for a look-see. Of course, before they do that, they have to clean you out with enemas, which sounds VERY unpleasant. In other words, Bo Diddley (or B.D. as we cats in the neighborhood call him) was subjected to two days of kitty Abu Ghraib-type treatment at the hands of a few “bad apple” veterinarians.
Well, the good news is, they didn’t find anything seriously wrong with B.D. The bad news (for B.D.’s humans) is that it cost them hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of green papers with pictures of former federal employees, and B.D. shunned them for ONE COMPLETE DAY for putting him through such an onerous ordeal.
The only thing I can say to B.D. is I’m glad it was you and not me!