I languish in a cage in an alien and nasty smelling place. They have done dreadful things to me. Violated me!

I have tubes in my legs and, I can tell you, I would bite the next person who comes up and fiddles with them except for the fact that I have a bandage of some sort around my jaw. (Not a good look).

I will update you later when my paws aren’t so stiff. I’m a little groggy too. I think they put something in the water.

I have a hearty dislike of going to the vet.

The woman knows this! She still chooses to ignore my feelings and allows me to appear foolish in front of strangers.

Once again I end up in a waiting room which should by rights be segregated. Why should I be forced to lose dignity by being firstly, inside a common box, and secondly in the same room as a common dog? An exceedingly common dog too, the type of inanely happy mutt who wants to lick everyone. Low class.

I’m in this large super-size vet centre, the Lort Smith Animal Hospital a mad, noisy place and I’m serving my time until I can break out over the wall.

The woman will be sorry she did this. Believe me.