A Trip

It’s official. Clio is not a threat to national security. At least for the next 29 days.

/Sigh of relief.

I know you were all worried.

In order to take your pet across state lines by plane, you need to have a signed health certificate by order of Homeland Security. Just to make sure she isn’t packing distemper. Biological warfare is frowned upon.

We actually had the pleasure of two pet visits today. Since, well – I’ll get to that. It was a bit of a last minute veterinary visit.

Being new to the sunny land of hell-a, we have yet to find Clio a vet. So, we did what all red-blooded-lazy-cheap Americans do… we took her to the vet attached to Petco. Yes, Vetco.

What kind of people take their pet to a place called Vetco?

While we were in the waiting room a man walked in the door with a paper bag in his hands. I assumed he was carrying canned dog food or something. It looked heavy and cumbersome. Well, of course it was cumbersome. It was a cat in a bag. A brown paper bag. A cat. In a brown paper bag.

Once admitted to the examination room we were helped by a lovely woman named Bridget. Who was a little less lovely when, after she shoved a thermometer somewhere things should never be shoved, grabbed an alcohol swab and dropped it on the floor. She picked it up and looked at it briefly before swiping it once over the thermometer and placing the thermometer back in the drawer. One swipe. Hmm. Thank god it wasn’t going up my butt next.

After that ordeal we were instructed to wait for the vet.

Two minutes later, Bridget returns to say that, oops – their vet isn’t certified to do health certificates. Oops. Should have told us that yesterday when we called, shouldn’t you have, Bridget?

So off we go to vet number two. At VCH the vet actually has the qualifications required to look at Clio for two minutes and deem her healthy.

We shall not return to Vetco.

So… why did we wait until the day before takeoff to get Clio certified? Because EQ2 has sucked in my brains and won’t give them back.

If you call me while I’m playing Everquest, even if I respond – I’m not really listening. If you email me while I’m playing Everquest, and I read it? I’ll forget it ever existed. If you’re Ryan, and you say, “Allie, Clio and I are going on a walk, we’ll be back in ten minutes,” I won’t notice you were gone, nor will I know where you have been.

It’s a disease. But Ryan has it too – so I don’t feel so bad.