April 10, 2008

A Woman's Choice

Hey there. Cindy speaking. You will never guess what happened to me. I have been violated, physically and emotionally; deprived of my right to choose; made sterile. You see, slick Missy (I will never trust her again) decided, without consulting me, mind you, that I needed to be "fixed." Excuse me? I think that she was put up to this notion by somebody that she calls SF. He kept telling her that I was going to give her trouble. What's up with that? Won't trust him any more, either. And to think, I was nice to him.

Early Thursday morning, she threw me and my child out in the yard. The wind was kicking up something terrible but did she care? N O T! Closed the door and left us out there with things flying around and scaring that boy something awful. But, I noticed that she whispered in my ear that she had something special planned. Well, here she comes later all cleaned up and has my leash. Poor, unsuspecting, trusting me. I'm overjoyed. And when we go around the corner and I realize that I'm going to ride? Whoopee! Slick Missy even opened the window so I could stick my nose out. You know that I was in seventh heaven.

Well, we pull up to this building and it is filled with more four-leggers like me. All shapes and sizes: an ugly pug; a huge labrador or something but he was huge; a real pretty Springer Spaniel (but it had red eyes; must have been too much night life); a Boston terrier; and two really sick dogs wrapped in blankets. Well, being the lady that I am, I took everything in stride. There was even an oversized cat which draped itself around the computer. I didn't give it a second thought. Just chilled and watched everything. There was also a little two-legger, named Owen, who waddled over to pet that ugly pug.

After standing around for about an hour (Slick Missy decided that she didn't want to sit next to the other four-leggers because she didn't know how I would act), we were told to go into a room and the doctor would be right in. Doctor? What? Well, boys and girls, he didn't look like a doctor. Had on blue jeans and a jean shirt, with a baseball cap. Lots of curls under that cap. Whipped me up on the table and WHOA, what's up with the fingers in my private parts? He didn't know me like that. Pronounced that I wasn't pregnant. Is that why we were there? I could have told Slick Missy that. Got her knickers all in a twist because my nipples were popping out? Geez! Then, Curly Top tells her that they have had several cancellations and they can operate on me today. That silly woman starts grinning and dancing. Operation? I didn't sign on for that. Whipped me off the table and out the door. The last I saw of Slick Missy was that fool grinning and saying "Bye, Cindy."

Well, here she comes the next morning to pick me up. I was glad to see her though I didn't feel too good. I think he removed more than he was supposed to but back to the car. I do like riding in that automobile. They told her that I got a pedicure in the bargain. Hmmph! After all those indignities, I deserve a little pampering, ya' think?

Well, Slick Missy is all solicitous and caring. Got my medicine in tow. I'm moving a little slow and Big Boy is just beside himself. Missy made sure he was out of the way before she let me in. The boy doesn't understand that I can't take all that jumping and cavorting right now.

Now, here's the deal. I got to go in the house, just like I did before I had those troublesome pups. Had a little trouble holding my water but you females know how that is. Slick Missy took it in stride though, even after I hit her precious living room rug. It's dirty anyhow but she just cleaned it up and kept moving. Now, this might be a little bit of alright. So I hit every spot that didn't have paper. Bleach fumes everywhere. I heard her muttering but I think of it as payback. Got to sleep inside too. With my own food and water. No sharing. What luxury.

But back to the topic. Wasn't it my right to choose? After all, Doc English (I really have to drop a note to Zeke and let him know that he was right about him) said that I was a young thing, only about 1.5 years old, so I had plenty of reproducing to do. The way I see it, I could have lived on the dole, me and mine, for quite a few years. After all, the two-leggers drop them every year or so and nobody whisks them off to get "fixed." Anyway, I think I'm going to play this convalescence thing for all it is worth.

Oh, and did she bring that boy of mine a toy so that he wouldn't feel bad? It's mine, just as soon as I get better.

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