So, what's my excuse for tardiness? Well, I'm going to blame the NHS. That and TheBloke (TM)'s tendency to use his head instead of a cricket bat. Safe to say the last few days have mostly been about hospital appointments, surgery and failing to do any type of housework whatsoever.
Monty Cat, being the ginger git that he is, needs special food to stop him weeing blood. Stupid faulty cat. This costs (per week) almost exactly the same as TheBloke (TM) and I spend on our food shopping per person. And it has to be bought from the vets, at which there is no parking, and which is only open for thirteen minutes every other Tuesday, so long as it's not Whitsun.
So yesterday, being a Tuesday outside of Whitsun, I made the fortnightly visit to the vet to stock up on his special Monty Cat food. I parked illegally as usual, and dashed into the shop.
"Hi, I'd like some incredibly overpriced food please, preferably the stuff branded with 'I saw you coming' stamped on it," I said. Not really.
I said, "Could I get two packs of the Royal Canin feline wet food for cats with urinary problems?"
"Of course," said the receptionist. "Could I take your surname please?"
"Nunn," said I. Thankfully, this didn't turn into one of those interminable conversations where I get looked at sceptically and asked, "None? You don't have a surname?"
"Nunn," the receptionist repeated, "is it for Monty?"
"No," I said. "I find it so delicious that I serve it with potatoes and carrots twice a week. And my bladder has never felt better."
The receptionist looked a bit worried. Then realised I was joking. I'm not sure she approved. The food seemed to cost even more this week.
Furry ginger git.
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