She bites. She hisses. She arches her back and poofs her tail. That is my Pudgy. I never take her naughty actions seriously, even when she’s sinking her mouse-scaring needle teeth into my hand. Somehow I know she’s just exploring her cat-nature and doesn’t’ mean to hurt me. Much.
As proof I offer the fact that she rarely breaks the skin on my body parts. I suppose that could suggest she has dull teeth, but they feel plenty sharp and shred-worthy.
Pudgy just turned a year old in September. That means she is due for her annual check-up at the veterinary’s office, and I’m essentially dreading it. She likes me and I get bit, what’s she going to do to the doctor when he starts poking and prodding? Yikes. After this visit he may be “too busy†to schedule her in the future.
As I was pondering these things last night, Pudgy wandered over to where I was sitting. She kneaded my lap for a bit, rubbed her head against my chest, and then curled into a purring puddle before falling asleep. Such an angel! How much work can it be to find a new veterinarian or two? Pudgy’s moods…the best part of my day.
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