Weekly Lesson: A Trip to the Vet’s (Surgery)

For study until 29th of September 2024

Subject: A Trip to the Vet’s (Surgery)

Audio: On usual social media platforms.

I heard an American Politician talking the other day about vets and it crossed my mind that these doctors who are caring for our little fluffy friends are somehow very important in American English.  Actually, he was abbreviating the word “veteran” as in “war veteran”. On this side of the pond a vet is a veterinary surgeon, not a veteran. It took me a while to work that one out.  Especially when he talked about their valuable contribution to the country.

Anyway, On Saturday morning I once again found myself with the pet carrier discussing British weather with the vet. It always feels familiar:

“Good morning, miserable weather isn’t it?”

“Yes it really is….. was worse yesterday”

“Yes… yesterday was bad”.

Only after the obligatory small talk was I able to move on and bring the conversation round to the topic of my cat. 

“Oh look at this little sausage” she gleaned…..

Both my cat, and myself stared bitterly. This was the second vet in two weeks who referred to him as a cute sausage. It seemed a bit of a strange thing to say. I mean it is known that British people don’t celebrate food. Why would they call my cat a “sausage”?  My cat rolled his eyes and made a noise and hissed. I assured her it wasn’t personal. Anyway, what kind of sausage was she referring to?

Referring to a beef sausage could upset me because I’m vegetarian.

Referring to a pork sausage could upset just about everyone who follows a religion other than Christianity.

Referring to a vegetarian sausage might be ok – but why would she compare my cat to a vegetarian sausage?

My mind slowly drifted back, especially when the cat attacked the scales which were there to weigh him.

 “He actually hates everyone” I quipped “It’s not just you”.

“I am usually very good with black and white cats” she replied. Her remark was an incredibly weird thing to say.  It reminded me of some kind of speed dating event. My mind drifted to the only speed dating event I ever attended. It was in a sushi bar  I was more interested in the sushi passing by on the belt. The fried tempura prawns were delicious, but I also discovered that I love raw salmon. I don’t remember any of the people from that day but I do remember the dishes.

My mind returned to the situation on hand…“Cat stereotyping?” I thought. “black and white cats like me more?”

We got into the usual conversation about how strange cats can be, neither of us noticed that my cat had been eyeing up the PC and  had decided to chew her monitor cable. He jumped off the table just as the screen went black.

“Oh he’s such a cutie” she nervously laughed, before advising me to get his teeth checked as she disconnected the power on her computer.

“He’s definitely obese” – “8 kilograms”. The cat and I looked puzzled. Obese is such a hard word for anyone to hear. It seemed like only yesterday a nurse was talking about my diabetes and told me the very same thing. I could feel his pain.  Was this the vet’s revenge for the chewed cable?

“That’s 1.52 stone” she muttered under her breath…

“Ahh – now I get it” – Kilograms mean nothing to me.

“Yes, I’m also not ok with the metric system” was her reply.

Then came the uncomfortable conversation about the bill. It felt like that moment at the end of the movie where you think to yourself “the movie has finished? What about that last character, and what about that storyline and that character…” So many unanswered questions.

“So….  That’s £140.58 pence please…”

“OK” – I answered

“Any plans for today? – back to the awful weather?” she uttered to try and break the ice a bit.

“Not really – I need to clean my apartment”

She petted Ptofi, he hissed at her and then bit her…..

“Oh I think he likes you” I commented while she winced in pain.

“its my perfume” she said….. “they always go crazy for it”.

I thought for a second that maybe I had missed some undercurrent in this conversation. Did she realise that he “wasn’t going crazy for it” – he just bit her…which for me means he didn’t like it but I decided to ignore her words.

 While clutching my American Express card I carried the cat to the till. The receptionist blew loads of kisses at him, He turned and faced the other way and then we launched into a really weird conversation:

“How do I claim this from my pet Insurance?”

“If you have pet insurance we will tell them”

“I do have pet insurance”

“If you have that’s great”

“Would you like the details”

“If you have them that would be great”

I was getting kind of tired of all these “if’s” and handed her the policy number. Direct communication usually gets easier once you pay people.

Then my cat Ptofi and I booked a taxi and went home, the cat felt better, my wallet felt lighter and the vet was £140 pounds better off. The whole thing reminded me of a series of British public information videos  called “Charley Says…” which they used to show on TV. You should YouTube them, they are very strange and eccentrically British. A talking cat with a little boy who translates the voice of his pet cat called Charley.

Anyway, my cat was later admitted to an emergency animal hospital on Saturday afternoon,  where he still is.  The hospital called me a few times to say that he keeps biting everyone. So I guess he’s making a good recovery and I am hoping to pick him up later today.

Note to myself, for later: Head to a sushi bar this week, to relax.