Our vets is a specialist for bulldogs. The waiting room sometimes sounds like a Steam Rally event with all the bullies chuffing away.
“Sit” said an owner to his portly looking bully who looked like he needed ironing or at least a few minutes in a trouser press “Sit!”
“How would you even know?” said Kato staring at the bull dogs squat bowed Georgian table legs “Can’t even tell which end is the head and which end is...”
“Don’t finish that sentence” I said
Looking at the rolls of bulldog draped over his creaky frame, Kato has a point, his front end and back end were very similar.
The bulldog snorted and got into something resembling a “sit” but it was more of a “splaaaat” with pools of dogness rippling around him. He looked like he’d partially melted.
The door opened and in came man in a wheelchair with his assistance Rottweiler. Kato actually smiled. Last time she met Assistance Rotty, she found him a calm, soothing presence.
To our surprise Rotty stared down a pug and gave a terse “Fuck you” in the face of a white polar bear dog. This it seemed, was son of assistance rotty, still in training, just hitting adolescence and not always getting his salutations correct.
“MILF!” barked the rotty when he spotted Kato. Kato looked aghast and intently read the small print on posh medical dog food.
“Oy, sexy lady, bet you’re up for it” said the juvenile rotty then turned to the portly bulldog “Do one squash face, I saw her first”
“I think he’s trying to get your attention” I said to Kato
“Lamb bone meal” read Kato “0.15% fructooligosaccharides”
“I’ve got some bone meal here for you hot paws” grunted the rotty straining at his leash
Our vet appeared, Kato shot in the examination room.
It was a positive vet visit, just a re-prescription and a marvel that it’s almost one year since Kato was diagnosed with mast cell cancer. She's mostly very well with just the odd tummy upset. She rarely needs her pain killers.