Not Happy Nibbles & The Piggy Pedicure
So when Mummy got out the blue travel box I grew more and more worried. I tried hiding in the pigloo but she easily lifted me out and plonked – really there is no other word for it – plonked me in the travel box. I spent the car journey trying to dig my way out of the box and chewing on the plastic. Mummy gave up telling me off after a few minutes.
The car stopped moving and I was carried into the vets. My palms, or rather paws, became sweaty and I became more agitated. Mummy opened the box and began feeding me grapes and spinach leaves. A little boy who was there with his pet was watching me. He was only a little hooman and so I was very patient when he patted me and touched my whiskers. Then my name was called. “Nibbles Williamson” I’ve always thought it ridiculous that they don’t call out Sir Nibbles but there you go.
It was worse than I remembered clutching hands holding me in position. The sound of knives being sharpened. Okay maybe knife sharpening is an exageration. It could have been the computer starting up. Then the clipping started. I squeaked and wailed and struggled and snapped. The vet kept telling me what a good boy I was. I didn’t care that Mummy would tell me off. I bit him. How was the good boy now?! Of course Mummy was mortified but the vet shrugged it off. It was then discovered I have hay mites! Occassionally they come in a bad batch of hay and though they are not really bad they’re not nice either. I’ve had then before and now need treatment. Nutty shares a cage with me so he gets treatment too. *evil laugh*
Mummy whimp ered when she saw the bill. Serves her right. Do you like having you claws or nails pedicured? Do you mind visiting the vet or doctors?
As my vet will testify, it is not something I enjoy!