Ruprecht Goes To The Vet's

Well I was going to give up drinking today but I had a load of beer left and, having drunk it, I decided not to give up after all. when you have a Lidl with Grafenwalder at 75p...

Dean and I met a schizophrenic in the pub yesterday. Everytime he mentioned the devil his hand went in my direction. Apparently I should have stayed with my first husband - no matter what he did - and not having done so made me into Mary Magdelen crossed with Lucifer.

Luckily I am aware of the fact that I am a psychopath so I tend to leave the building before I kick off. I wanted to kill the weirdo. Luckily the barmaid understood and she gave me a cigarette which I took outside and smoked.

God-botherers are really fucked up. You can tell they haven't actually taken on board what Jesus is supposed to have actually said.
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Our hamster - Ruprecht - had to go to the vet yesterday. He has a growth on the side of his head. At first we thought he was growing another head like the woman in South Park who had conjoined-twin myslexia! Dean kept singing the Neil Diamond pastiche - "Dead Foetus Or No"...

We hoped it was only a boil, but its a tumour. The hamshite was really funny when the vet tried to examine him. We took him down the road in Dean's black Thinsulate hat inside his ball. I think he knew sometthing was up because he normally gets into his ball easily, but this time he kept turning towards the side of his cage - the top was off - and I thought he looked as if he was going to make a run for it. He didn't run and got in the ball. We put the ball in the hat and set off down the road. Dean carried him because I am rather clumsy and I didn't want to risk dropping him. (I'd have put him in an over the shoulder bag if I had to carry him and put it over like a sash. I know my limitations. :) )

When we got to the vet's Dean went off to the bank and I waited in the waiting room. A woman came out with a cat in a basket and Ruprecht must have smelt it, because he kept scrabbling at the lid of his ball. I'm stood there reassuring Ruprecht that he was quite safe.

I was just about to tell him the cat was in a cage when the cat-owner (or fool/slave as I call them) said, "I'm waiting 'til my husband pulls up outside, if that's ok. Only the catch is faulty and she can open it. I heard a woman lost her cat that way last week."

I'm thinking, 'Oh great! Just let the cat escape in here so SHE is safe! And what about my dwarf hamster? Cats can jump up and are known to whizz around rooms like maniacs using anything and anyone as a springboard. In my mind the moggy had already escaped, leapt up and used my small burden for a launch-pad, in the process knocking the hamster to the floor, dislodging the lid and thereby letting my hamster out of the ball; at this point the cat was leaping on him with a hungry look - in my head.!!

I was just about to make a disparaging remark about cat-owners (fool/slaves) to Ruprecht when the vet called me in. I put the hat down on the table and took the lid off the ball. Ruprecht was going spare and tried to get out of the ball himself so I quickly tipped him into the hat. Ruprecht is about four inches high when he stretches up but the hat was more. Ruprecht did the silent screaming shit and really tried to get away. The vet was great. She got hold of him by the scruff but he wriggled so fiercely that she dropped him back in the hat a couple of times. She changed tactics and finally got him round the throat, using part of the hat so he couldn't get away, and felt the lump. We were hoping it was a boil or something, but no - its a tumour. Ruprecht is 18mths old so he is at the end of his lifespan. Pretty sad shit really.

When I came out Dean had not yet returned. The nurse/receptionist said the charge was thirty two pounds something. She seemed embarrassed to mention the fact that I owed them twenty quid from eight years ago when Dean and I were still mad and buggered off to Exeter forgetting all about the vet. I wasn't embarrassed, it was me who told them to check up. I'd done it before and I was sure I'd done it again. It's not deliberate, I was almost insane at the time. She looked even more uncomfortable as time went by slowly and no sign of Dean. At first I was amused and tried to put her at her ease, but after a while I, too, began to wonder where he was. The bank is only ten minutes there and back and I felt like I'd been there hours. Eventually Dean came steaming up the outside stairs with the cash. There had been chaos at the bank cash-point, long queues, etc. We only have four or five cash-points here so, if two or three break down or run out of cash there is chaos... I paid the bill, to the relief of the girl and we left.