She bites. She hisses. She arches her back and poofs her tail. That is my Pudgy. I never take her naughty actions seriously, even when sheâ€™s sinking her mouse-scaring needle teeth into my hand. Somehow I know sheâ€™s just exploring her cat-nature and doesnâ€™tâ€™ mean to hurt me. Much.
As proof I offer the fact that she rarely breaks the skin on my body parts. I suppose that could suggest she has dull teeth, but they feel plenty sharp and shred-worthy.
Pudgy just turned a year old in September. That means she is due for her annual check-up at the veterinaryâ€™s office, and Iâ€™m essentially dreading it. She likes me and I get bit, whatâ€™s she going to do to the doctor when he starts poking and prodding? Yikes. After this visit he may be â€œtoo busyâ€ to schedule her in the future.
As I was pondering these things last night, Pudgy wandered over to where I was sitting. She kneaded my lap for a bit, rubbed her head against my chest, and then curled into a purring puddle before falling asleep. Such an angel! How much work can it be to find a new veterinarian or two? Pudgyâ€™s moodsâ€¦the best part of my day.