The Man took me to the stabby place this morning. No warning, he just scooped me up and took me over there, where someone who was not the bald guy shaved my neck and stabbed me again. This time they didn't even get me drunk; they just let me howl so loud I think I scared the feathers off the bird they have in the waiting room. For some reason they wanted more of my blood. I swear, if they keep it up, I'm not going to have any left.

Revenge was mine, however. While the vet and her helper had me down, I let loose with a mighty poop. Yep, all over the table, and with any luck, I got them, too. They tried to clean me up, but I was not in a cooperating mood by then, so they put me back into the plastic tomb and took me back out to the Man.

Well. Since he's the one who took me there, I figure he deserved a little revenge, too. So I squeezed out a nice 5 pound poop, and for good measure, I sat in it.

The best part? He had to drive home with me spelling like kitty poop. Sure, the Woman held me down while he washed me off, but it was a nice warm wash cloth and it was so totally worth it.

The lady at the stabby place told the Man that the next time he has to take me there he needs to come over the day before and get some kitty valium so that I can truly enjoy the experience.

Well now. I did not like being stabbed, but I thoroughly enjoyed pooping all over the place.

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