Now it's Deuce's turn...

After work today, Josh and I took Deuce to the clinic to check him in for his dental cleaning (and possible extraction) tomorrow morning. We've been putting it off for a little while, and then when Deuce got sick we had to postpone it again. This time he went in. *sigh*

We got to the clinic and Deuce was calm and quiet, even though the waiting area was full of barking dogs...poor kitty.

One of the receptionists said that we should go into one of the exam rooms and have him weighed. Umm, he was just there, his weight shouldn't fluctuate *that* much that you need to weigh him again. We decided that if they really needed to weigh him, they should do it downstairs, since he has a tendency to go psycho. The receptionist thought we were being difficult and said that "when the tech comes to give you instructions, please tell him that you refused to weigh your cat"...we, however, thought she was a royal b*tch. :P

The tech came up to talk to us, and in his thick Eastern European accent he explained the procedure and the costs associated with everything. His accent was so thick that we had to have him repeat things a couple of times. As we were saying our goodbyes to Deuce, his old temperament showed up and he started growling, hissing and spitting in his cage. Poor thing, he's probably thinking "why am I back here again? I'm not sick? what are you doing to me?!"

To say that we felt guilty about leaving him there is an understatement, but he needs to have this done. I'm just going to feel really bad if he has to have an extraction.

I guess this means two of us on a soft food diet...