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 didn’t know what to call her, so we named her "Pussycat." We felt sorry for her, put her in a carrier, and we took her to the vet. 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 they 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 and God only knows who the father is!" And then he closed the door.
Now THAT, my friends, is getting even…