Hamish:  How are you feeling Dougie?  I was worried about you.

Dougie:  Much better, thanks bro.  I felt really poorly on Friday and I couldn’t eat.  My tooth was so painful.

Hamish:  Thank goodness Mom and Dad took you to the vet.

Dougal:  Well, yes but I simply hate going.  Not only are you locked up in that pet-carrier thingy, you’re bundled into that moving metal box the parents call the car.

Hamish:  I know.  I can’t stand it.  I hope you protested.

Dougal:  A bit but I felt dreadful and knew I needed to see the vet. 

Hamish:  I tend to protest on the way there but I don’t bother when we’re on the way home.  Seems ungrateful if you feel better.

Dougal:  Indeed and they do magic at the vets you know.  It’s all a bit undignified and the vet stuck a thermometer up……

Hamish:  OK, OK, we get it.

Dougal:  Sorry bro, I forgot about your “thermometer experience”.  I don’t mind so much, just comes as a bit of a surprise.  They stuck some needles in me too and then I got lots of cuddles.  Somehow, all the pain went away.  I find if you “do cute” they all love you. Purrfect really.

Hamish:  But you’ve to go back for some dental work next week?

Dougal:  Go back?  No!  Nobody told me.

Hamish:  Oops!  Only one way to deal with this Dougie, nap.

Dougal:   I’m ahead of you!