Nothing like taking the cats to the vet to make you feel mean. Poor things. They had to have like four shots! And the looks they gave me! What a sense of betrayal in Emerald's pained cry!* Pandora, on the hand, since she was second into a carrier, knew perfectly well what was going on, but I think she was a dog in a former life because she has this doglike notion that people know best. Emerald, on the other hand, thinks we're terminally stupid (with god-like powers) and that's why we aren't always giving her cat-treats and why we do heinous things like taking her to the vets, 'cause we're just too dumb to know any better.

In other news, something keeps digging up my carrot sprouts. It's making me mad! I was going to have about fifty carrots, but now it's down to more like forty-five and every day I notice more holes around there. And something ate my basil sprouts! Grr!
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*I came up with a cunning plan to get her into the carrier. I stuck her in a pillow-case (the very pillow-case that we first carried her home in when she was a kitten) which she thinks is fun because she (like most cats) thinks that if she can't see you, you can't see her either. And then I carried her down and stuck her in the carrier and she leapt out of the pillowcase--too late for the cage door was already shut. And the sounds she made! So pitiful! So keening! She peed on the pillowcase on the way to the vets in revenge.