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The Abby Chronicles–Abby Goes to the Kitty Doctor–Round III, A Very Strange Visit

Here I am, ready to write my story!

Chapter XIX

The younger human took me to the kitty doctor’s one day. It was something different from the regular routine, so I was excited about that.

The younger human put me in the carrier and took me to the car. The car said, “Vroom!” and off we went.

When we got to the vet’s, there was another change in routine. Instead of the younger human getting my carrier out of the car and taking me into the office right away, she sat in the car and talked into a little box. The human kept turning around to me and saying, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize we’d have to wait.” I could hear a bit of stress in her voice, but I was fine. I’m Abby, and Cool is my middle name. Besides, I was chillin’ in the carrier–literally. Because it was hot, before we left the house the human placed an ice pack on the bottom of the carrier. She covered the pack with an old towel, then put me on the towel. So, I was Good.

After the human talked in the little box some more, two humans came out from the vet’s office. The younger human lifted my carrier out of the car. I thought she would take me into the office, but no, one of the female humans from the vet’s took the carrier. She said something about, “due to the virus” and she would bring me back out when they were done.

Strange, isn’t it?

Anyway, I got my rabies shot and my treats (I really like that vet!) and the vet’s helper brought me out to the car. The younger human set my carrier on the back seat, started the car, the car said, “Vroom!” and we came home. Strange adventure over!

Abby

P. Booher, secretary

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The Abby Chronicles

Author’s Note:

I first made my starring appearance in BlogLand over at TheSquirrelseye. Mom Sue posted some pictures there, and I look pretty and sophisticated, as befits a cat of my caliber, if I do say so! Check my pics out (as well as a lot of other cool pictures and articles at: http://www.thesquirrelseye.wordpress.com. Now I’m here at Country Ripples, and I plan to stay!

I decided to write my story–doesn’t everybody have a story? Anyway, as a rescue cat I am blessed and want to let everybody know it!  So, here’s my story.

abby-ready-to-write

Here I am, ready to write my story!

Chapter I

My History

I don’t remember much of my life before “Mom Sue” brought me into her home. But then, cats are supposed to be mysterious, right?

“Mom Sue” named me Abby. I guess I was “abandoned”–whatever that means–when she found me, so she named me Abby. But the other day I overheard the humans in my new home talking about Abigail In The Bible. The humans said Abigail In The Bible was courageous, and I’d like to think of myself as Abigail the Courageous rather than Abigail the Abandoned. After all we cats are a courageous lot. We take on dogs twice our size when we have to; we live off the land by catching mice, chipmunks and birds; we dodge cars, hawks, mean humans and coyotes on a regular basis.

I also think of myself  as “Abby the Blessed”. You see, when Mom Sue first brought me into her home I was in a bad way. I was coughing a lot, and I’d been hit by a car. I have sight only in one eye, and hearing only in one ear, so I didn’t dodge that car. Mom Sue, Dad Fred, and the younger humans fussed over me and gave me lots of love. They gave me medicine (yucky-tasting but it worked), and wrapped me in blankets. I even heard Mom Sue praying for me when she was holding me and petting me when I was so sick. I must have been really sick because Mom Sue was so relieved when I started feeling better. I’d felt so bad I didn’t bother to bathe. Then one day I started grooming myself. Mom Sue was so happy she took a picture of me!(http://www.thesquirrelseye.wordpress.com/2015/02/06/abby-is-bathing) So I figure I can call myself “Abby the Blessed” because I was close to using up my ninth life before Mom Sue saw me and took me in. Now I can do the things a cat should be able to do.

Different times I heard Mom Sue and the rest of her family talk about me.
For awhile they thought I was a feral cat. But as time passed they changed their minds. I heard them say, “She had to have been somebody’s pet.” I only know that when Mom Sue put a collar on me ( she said it was to keep those hateful fleas away) I didn’t mind. It was no big deal. Neither was going in a carrier. I knew what the litter box was for, too. I did miss it a couple times–keep in mind I have just one good eye. But Mom Sue and family were patient. They cleaned up my messes and kept showing me where the box was until I got it.

P. Booher

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