Courtesy of Prentiss F.
One hot July day we found an old straggly cat at our door. She was a sorry sight. Starving, dirty, smelled terrible, skinny and hair all matted down. We felt sorry for her, put her in a carrier and took her to the vet.
We didn't know what to call her, so we named her "Pussycat." The vet decided to keep her for a day or so. He said he would let us know when we could come and get her. My husband (the complainer) said, "OK, but don't forget to wash her, she stinks." He reminded the vet that it was his WIFE that wanted the dirty cat, not him.
My husband and my Vet don't see eye to eye. He calls my husband "El-Cheap-O," my husband calls him "El-Take-O." They love to hate each other and constantly "snipe" at each other, with my husband getting in the last word on this occasion.
The next day my husband had an appointment with his doctor, who is located next door to the vet. The doctor's office was full of people waiting to see him. A side door opened and in leaned the vet; he had obviously seen my husband arrive. He looked straight at my husband and in a loud voice said, "Your wife's pussy is finally clean and shaved and she now smells like a rose. Oh, and, by the way, I think she's pregnant. God knows who the father is!" And he closed the door.