Recently, Indy enjoyed his yearly trip to the vet. I won’t call it his “annual” because face it, ladies, that has its own connotation, yes? And Indy (as a eunuch) doesn’t really need THAT exam.
I mean, people mistake him for a girl ALL.THE.TIME. but he’s still got SOME of the boy parts.
The best part for him was that he got to be the center of someone else’s attention for a while. He was really eating it up and seemed to be working the place really hard.
I'll let Indy tell you about it himself.
Well, thank you so much to my second-favorite family member…the one who is automatically bumped into first place when the alpha-male isn’t there. I so appreciate you letting my non-opposable thumbs hack away at the keyboard for a while and share a story with your fan base.
It’s taken me two days to recount these events, but it is finally complete. Enjoy.
I do have a few things to share with you people about my day out so thanks for taking the time to read it. As Mrs. Always Random just mentioned, it was time for my annual appointment.
Why are you laughing? Was it something I said?
Anyway…they took me to the vet first thing in the morning. Well, it was “first thing” to some people; nine am isn’t so early to everyone. On the way, Mrs. Always Random said something about the vet “checking me out”…that’s what any good director does before hiring talent, right?
I was ready.
I began singing, “I Feel Pretty” inside my head to prep myself for the impromptu role…regardless of what would come my way, I would feel pretty. I mean handsome, of course.
It’s a good thing I am a quick study…I knew right away that I was playing the part of a dog and needed to act as such.
So when we walked in the animal hospital, I noticed Mrs. Always Random was carrying a bag with a plastic container inside. I didn’t catch all of the conversation, but she mentioned something to the lady behind the desk about the vet needing a stool sample.
I’ve never had a director ask to check that before, but you know how these Hollywood types can be. Always pushing the envelope to see how badly you want the part.
I took that as my cue and produced a fresh sample right there on the entryway rug.
Mrs. Always Random and the PBA were not as impressed with my “poop on demand” trick as I thought they might have been.
In fact, if I read their responses correctly, they actually seemed somewhat horrified.
The staff at the vet were also unimpressed, “It’s not the first time that’s happened here.”
Wow…I didn’t know this would be such a tough crowd. I wasn’t going to really have to step it up if my usual bag of tricks wasn’t going to be enough for this director.
Next they didn’t even give me a chance to sniff around the waiting area, but immediately took me over to the scale. As any good actor showing off his goods, I immediately began parading back and forth on what appeared to be a “cat walk” (such a distasteful term) for the show I was convinced I was there to do.
But for some reason, the 11yo I live with was trying valiantly to hold me still, but not push down on the scale, lest he alter the true weight. I sat for what appeared to be ages (I think it was about 2 seconds), before they whisked me off to a small little room to wait.
I don’t know why they call it “The Green Room” because it was blue.
The good news is that the scale indicated I lost 2.5 pounds in the past year. I wish Mrs. Always Random could say the same at her doctor appointment next week.
I didn’t even get to hear any applause for my performance on the cat walk, or even get petted by the crowd.
And once I was in the room, I realized, “Well who is going to see me if I’m cooped up in here?”
After I sniffed under all the chairs for a couple minutes, I noticed the copies of “Cat Fancy” on the table.
I don’t care who you are…that’s just offensive; I’ll have none of that.
I jumped up on the table, unaware that it was a slick surface (likened to that frozen water on the sidewalks in the winter) and my legs splayed out from under me (oh yes, all four of them), magazines were crumpled and pushed under chairs, and I started to actually fall off the table before the quick reflexes of the 11yo grabbed me from what was surely imminent death.
(It's a good thing I do all my own stunts. That should sell me to the director as well.)
Or imminent embarrassment. But that doesn’t really bother me. In fact, I can’t recall that I’ve ever done anything embarrassing, can you?
But in the flash in a pan that I was on the table, a quick perusal of the situation allowed me to see that “Dog Fancy” was also on the table.
So apparently this is an equal opportunity pet hospital/studio. My apologies. I truly had no idea.
My sequester from my adoring public was short-lived, as some lady came in to escort me from the green room to the studio.
At least that’s what I thought I heard her say.
Maybe that was a presumption on my part, but I did enjoy that she carried me. Any pet celebrity is going to be carried so I was confident I was on my way.
I willingly turned myself over to her. But imagine my surprise that the harsh glare from all those bright lights, which I presumed were for the cameras, were actually the better to examine me with.
And see where they were sticking me with needles.
And draw my blood.
It must be a new reality show on Discovery this fall…they’re just shooting the pilot right now for test marketing.
I’m a big draw, so I know people will tune in.
It’s called…well, actually, they don’t have a name for it yet, but they’re kicking around a few ideas. Feel free to toss your own into the mix as the brainstorming washes over you.
I’m certain my retelling of my adventures has inspired you with many possible names.
But above all else, please ensure that your suggestions capture the essence of me.
Which BTW I find my essence to be lovely right now, as I got my flea & tick medicine applied today as well and it always smells so divine…but for some reason, the Always Random family don’t seem to care for it. They say things to me such as, “Wow, Indy…you stink!”
How can members of the same family place the same fragrance on such opposite ends of the “appealing scent spectrum”? I do not understand.
Then again, I also like to roll in my own bodily waste…so perhaps we ARE different.
So…send those names in, people…we don’t want this pilot to die just because it didn’t have a name.
And BTW I must confess that I was uber-impressed with the cameramen; the cameras were very well hidden. I didn’t notice them in the slightest…it must be like those “nanny cams” I’ve heard my family discussing. As in “we really should get a nanny cam to see what Indy does when we’re gone.”
I’m not so sure they want to know that; full disclosure is not always necessary.
Anyway, so when the “doctor” (I’m fairly certain she was the director, but was merely playing the part of a doctor for the sake of the show) brought me back in to the green room, the insults were added to my injuries.
Something about my teeth needing to be cleaned better?
And then the director, I mean “doctor”, stuck her hand in my mouth to show Mrs. Always Random what she was talking about.
Excuse me ladies, if it’s all the same to you, I’ve been working for the past five years on that brown and yellow build-up on my teeth and the funky breath as well. I’ll have you know that my fans find it charming.
Especially on my lower teeth which protrude over my upper lip.
Charming, I tell you. Charming.
But what was it you said about a “plaque”? Did I win an prize for which I didn’t know I was awarded? How embarrassing that I didn’t show up for my acceptance.
See…now there’s an embarrassing moment for me to remember.
While the two of them continued to discuss my award, I made a jump for the table again.
Unfortunately I forgot it had that slippery stuff on it. I was just trying to get a closer look at the cover of that “Dog Fancy”…from the hot second I saw it initially, I thought my friend Brewster was on the front.
But alas it was not him. The industry is using younger and younger models for its covers and Brewster, despite his youthful appearance, is too old for cover work.
You and me both, buddy.
So after all this, we left the room and went back out to where I had performed my initial trick. They didn’t even give me a chance on the cat walk this time…apparently I had nailed it on my first try so they went with the initial take.
But I wasn’t finished. I wanted to go out with a bang and I knew just what to do.
So as Mrs. Always Random was plunking down some fat cash at the counter, I lifted my leg and left them a little something to remember me by.
|Worn out from the day's festivities|