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10:00 AM: My head is spinning and I
can’t stand up without falling over. My first life seems to be
slipping away. I must have caught a deadly canal-disease
yesterday.
11:45 AM: It’s worse than I feared. My
humans keep patting my head and talking in hushed voices. I
heard Skirt say the unspeakable word, ‘vet’. Normally I would
run a mile at the mention of this cruel person but right now I’m
far too ill.
1:30 PM: Trousers took me to the evil
vet. He took one look at me and shook his head. I have heard
lots of stories of cats being taken to the vet and never being
seen again so, when he produced the needle-of-death, my whole
life flashed in front of me. (It’s strange, I always thought my
life was more exciting than that.) As the vet approached all I
could think was, “I wish I had spent more time eating cream.”
The needle entered my neck. I felt a horribly sharp pain. But I
did not die. A few minutes later the vet gave Trousers something
called ‘The Bill’. Trousers seemed to be in more pain than I
was.
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