More fresh meat for the grinders.

One day, I took my doggies (two Chihuahuas appropiately named Samson and Goliath) to the vet for their vaccine shots.

The vet has a huge Calico cat that roams freely around the premises. He's got quite a personality of his own: Runs to greet and escort customers, watches as his mistress works on the various patients, takes naps in unusual places... well, you get the idea.

On that day, the cat rushed to us and began vocalising with enthusiasm, almost like a salesman. Here's a rough approximation of what he "said":

- Welcome!!! welcome!!! Here's the place... no pain vaccines at reasonable cost. Oh, I see we have two new customers! Worry not, your doggies are in good hands.

Then, he turned his head towards the clinic, and purred:

- Hey Boss... more fresh meat for the grinders!!! two incoming.

And looked back at us, reassuringly:

- Huh... as I said, guaranteed!


Suffice is to say the doggies were less than thrilled. The shots hurted as usual, and I swear that cat was watching from high above as they were being injected.
Such is the nature of cats.


My dear friend Bruno suggested me to write about the reimagined Battlestar Galactica series. So you have been warned what to expect on next post.