Saturday, February 11, 2012

It's my birthday?

Apparently it's my birthday. Now, you might remember Christmas a couple of months ago and all the gifts and stuff that I got then. Well, that was for some dead dude's birthday. So, I figure that I'd be, like, showered with presents for my own. Pearl says I've circled the sun twice. That ought to be worth something, right?
It's my birthday, and this is my birthday cake?
I've been robbed. There's no other explanation for it because what have I gotten for my birthday?

I got shot. No, seriously. I. Got. Shot!

Oh, wait a minute. Pearl says I forgot the "s." Spelling. Whatever. It turns out that Abe took me to the vet for my birthday, and I got "shot(s)" for rabies, parvo, and distemper (Ha, like I even need that one!). I had blood drawn! What kind of vampires are these people? It's my birthday for goodness sake! That's like visiting the dentist on your wedding day or maybe going to the amusement park before heading to your own funeral. It's cruel. I thought we had trained Abe and Elle better than this!

So, the blood was to check on heartworm. Yeah, Happy Valentine's Day to you too. Nothing says love then a big ole worm tugging at your heartstrings. I'll keep you posted on the results, but since I get a tasty treat every month to prevent the little buggers, I'm sure I'll be fine.

Of course, that's little consolation on my birthday, after all. I mean, that'd be one crappy birthday present, being told I have worms in my heart. Thanks. Couldn't you have ruined some other day if I did have them? Geesh. Someone tell Abe and Elle they really have to work on their timing.

Well, I've noticed we've been "given liberties" lately that had been reserved only for special occasions, like chillaxing in the living room and soaking up the sun's rays. Can you blame Abe and Elle for bending the rules some? Pearl says we've got them wrapped around our little dew claws. Hehe!
This is the life.

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