The Ruby Rose Report: The Check Up

 

I like going on car rides. I sit in the safety of my travel bag and watch the sky through the back window, feeling the engines rumble and hum.

But, when I am held in the front seat, it can only mean one thing: The vet.

What had I done? My work was exemplary. There is no vomiting or limping. My poop is solid, well-shaped, and tastes great out of the oven. (I know many of you find this behavior disgusting, but humans have been eating poop for years without knowing it. Why do you think you must poke the Pillsbury Doughboy to get pasty? And have you ever asked yourself where elves living in the middle of the woods get fudge?)

I am a post-pandemic baby and am well-adapted to the new rules. Instead of being cheesed off that I have to wait in the car until it is time for the vet to see me and that both of my parents can't go into the office, I am happy one is allowed, remembering those cold days of my youth when I had to solo the visit.

Luckily, we were the first appointment after lunch, unluckily, theirs, not mine, as, like most of my brethren, we don't get lunch. It is just for humans, like chocolate, alcohol, and marijuana.

I went in with my mom. The overfed humans moved sluggishly, and I could smell the food on their breaths. The police should pull people over for driving after overeating. If they can take a deep breath, hold it, and bend over without farting, they will be allowed to leave; if not, they will be charged with driving while digesting.

I admit, I was obsessed with eating because my parents had been discussing my weight, and not in a "boy, does she like good manners." There was a discussion if I should diet. I objected. You can't spell diet with die, and you can't spell alive if you are starving.

I do have an odd build. I look heavy from the front, where I have a big chest, but my hips are slim. I am a full-figured gal, but that shouldn't be confused with fat.

The good news is that the vet said I am the right weight. I could have kissed her, but she stuck me in the butt with something sharp, so much for foreplay.

All the workers came into the tiny room to bask in my cuteness, and I was given a new toy to bring home while Mommy paid hundreds of dollars so people could look at me. I say next time, we charge them.