Oh no, the girls are taking us to get our shots today. I hope Dr. Quack knows which end of the
needle to jab into our flesh. I don’t
expect him to have learned even any fundamental social pleasantries since we
last saw him, but at least don’t go poking and prodding cluelessly. It’s Louise
who’s the human pin cushion for crazy, so-called “doctors,” not me.
This little excursion is a waste of time, anyway. Between all the vitamin supplements Thelma slips
in our food, our massive water consumption, and our diet of grain-free kibble
and gourmet “Mediterranean Banquet” canned food—not to mention the professional
baths & fur-yankings we endure--I’m probably healthier than ol’ Dr. Lecter—I
mean Quack (And I’ll bet my ears are
cleaner, too.)
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