I went to the vet today. I look pretty good, and in lots of ways, I am just dandy. For one, I am processing a LOT of food lately. My appetite is good and everything looks good on the way out.

The grass is short this time of year.

The problem is that I am having trouble walking. The Farm Manager has arthritis and she says I walk the way she feels. Sometimes I even stumble, and the slick slimy deck is especially treacherous right now.

A car ride? REALLY? Nuts.

I’m not comfortable going up and down stairs, and so the Farm Manager hasn’t weighed me in a while. I’m looking a tad scrawny, though my fur is getting some winter bushiness.

Dobby’s lunch box: corn, lettuce, a “target”, banana chips, raisins, an apple

After seven and a half years of going to the vet, we have learned a thing or two. 1) You can’t put enough blankets into the car. and 2) You can’t take too many treats. We pack a bucket fulla food.

Urp! Holy crap, is that snow out there? Ooh, I’m not feeling so good.

I always seem to know what’s up. This time the Farm Manager wore a different scarf and hat so I didn’t want to put on my harness. Eventually I stepped into the harness and then we walked across the yard and OUT THROUGH THE GATE! I love this part. Up the ramp into the car is not quite as thrilling. I always get motion sickness, even as we are pulling out of the driveway!

Winter corn-on-the-cob is so scrawny I can bite nearly all the way across. Oh yeah, my teeth grew back in just fine.

It was a new vet clinic, but it was my friend Dr. Vincenzi! I sure was surprised to see him, but he was really happy to see me! Then things got serious. I’d rather not talk about the procedure, which involved a lot of stabbing attempts and then an actual bona-fide vampire stab. He thinks I am probably getting old and decrepit like the Farm Manager (it’s her birthday today!) so we are going to get me a sun for the kitchen. I’ll get pain medicine if my kidneys agree to it.

When I’m showing off I bite the corn as close to the Farm Manager’s fingers as I can. She loves my silly games!

More corn? That one was too small.

I ate some corn and then stumbled out of there in my new slippy-slidey wobbly way of walking that scares the heck out of the Farm Manager. Then we went home, I had my bedtime milk and went to bed.

That’s not a melted Fudgsicle.

I got the last laugh today, though! Look what The Bartender found stuck to the side of my potato bowl! They thought I was a good boy today! Hah! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!