What a racket. They make me wait 30 minutes and then the quack comes in and moves my head around and says I'm getting better. How long did he have to go to school to learn to do that?
He picked at the thing on my face and says it was some sort of ulcerated growth like what's on the top of my head, but that it had been irritated by scratching. So what does he do? He scratches it some more. Like, did that require a seminar or something? He sold us some cream to put on it because Longbones couldn't remember if we had any or not.
Then the quack drags me back into the torture chamber and someone, not sure if it was high voice or who, sticks her digits in my pipeline. That wasn't pleasant but it did take a load off.
Quack says I can walk now, but I'm supposed to keep it short. They want you to keep squirting that junk in my mouth for a week, and then cut it back. Longbones has the particulars. I refused to pay. Not sure if they shook him down or not.
Did I mention this whole thing is quite a racket?
Over and out.
Boscoe T. Smudge, esq.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Note in the background the lawn chairs positioned around the tree. We are trying to save the grass. When Riley runs up the tree, he falls back to the ground and starts digging. With the chairs in the way, he can run around the tree, but he can't run up it.