Here are a few photos of the kitties when I brought them to the vet for their checkup.
Sidenote: Yes, I realize that they should no longer be referred to as kittens. I don't care.
Anyways, nothing too exciting happened at the vet; the cats acted the same as they always do.
|As usual, Tika doesn't really give a shit what's going on around her.|
|And Sako runs and hides at the first sign of anything new.|
She stayed hidden behind the vet's laptop until we pried her away to do the examination. She then hid again as soon as it was over. You know, in case the vet suddenly decided to amputate her for no apparent reason.
|Seriously, it's like this cat is on a permanent crack cocaine binge.|
Every. Fucking. Time.
On this visit though, they seemed to be doing good. Until we got about two minutes away from the house. Then all at once, the car was filled with a stench. The traditional gift-of-thanks-for-checking-on-their-health stench.
Time suddenly seemed to slow down. As I gagged and frantically rolled all the windows down, the two cats stared me down from their shared crate. The look in their eyes can only be translated as "That's what happens when you take us to the vet, Bitch."
Thanks for the shit, kittens.