It occurs to me that perhaps I am in the wrong business.
Oh sure, being a cat, a blogger, and author of two books that appear repeatedly on the "New York Times Worst Seller List" has its perks. I have made friends and minions all over the world thingy. I have enough cat toys and treats to last a dozen life times. FaceBook and internet types hang on my every word and follow my every command. I spend my days napping and my nights creating mayhem and chaos with no fear of suffering consequences. I must admit, I have a good life.
This is all well and good, but I find it lacks something..........
Money.
I have no idea what I'd use it for, but I want it.
I have observed that the best way to procure money is to have two leggers give it to you.
While my two leggers were out yesterday, I decided to look through their financial records. While perusing their checkbook, I noticed that they give a lot of money to doctors and vet thingies. It seems that every month they are writing checks to various doctors, hospitals and laboratories. Now, I don't like hospitals, and laboratory has the word "labor" in it, so I have decided to become a doctor.
I spent the rest of the day (between naps) looking at various medical websites, watching "Dr. Oz", and pondering all things medical. I even signed up (using the two legger's credit card) for an online course that promises to teach me Latin in 2,734 easy lessons. I believe I can now hang my shingle and start my new practice.
However, being the conscientious individual that I am, I decided that it would be prudent to try out my newly learned medical skills on my fellow four leggers before revealing my new vocation to the two leggers and demanding their money.
Ivan was my first patient. His examination did not go well. I kept telling him to stick out his tongue and say "Ahhhhhhh". But he was uncooperative and kept saying "Ummmmmmmm". I tried shining a flashlight in his ear, but it only made his eyes twinkle. Finally, I made him lay down and I attempted to listen to his heart. Unfortunately, aside from being big and dumb, Ivan is also acutely ticklish and I couldn't hear his heart over his incessant giggling. Though the exam was difficult, I gleaned enough information to make a diagnosis. Ivan is suffering from Acute Cranial Density. This condition is caused by hardening and thickening of the skull thingy that effectively blocks any intellectual stimuli from entering his noggin while simultaneously preventing what few thoughts he may generate from exiting. Just like his intellect, his prognosis is dim.
I called Tiger Lily in as my next victi......patient. Due to an unfortunate misunderstanding followed by a somewhat sketchy restraining order, I am not allowed within six inches of her, so only a visual examination was performed. Her condition was immediately apparent. Tiger Lily is a victim of a genetic disorder thingy called Irritable Mrowl Syndrome. The primary symptom of IMS is the uncontrollable vocalization of sounds that tend to annoy and anger any semi-intelligent organism within a five-mile range. Unfortunately there is no known cure for IMS, however, it can sometimes be controlled with liberal and aggressive doses of my newly developed drugs Smackitol and Smackitagin.
Jaq proved to be my most difficult patient. She was perfectly willing to be examined, but I quickly realized that some ailments are not necessarily physical. Her ailment seems to be of the mind rather than the body. Her odd behavior, constant giggling, propensity to hiding in boxes and singing show tunes as well as uncontrolled fits of philosophy lead me to the inescapable diagnosis of Panicked Pecan Dementia. In layman's terms......She's freaking nuts.
After several minutes of research, I discovered that there is a simple cure for PPD. However, I have decided not to cure her or even tell her that it is treatable. It is not that the treatment is unorthodox or unethical, I just find her amusing to watch.
Now that I have proven my medical prowess, I will now sit back and wait for the money.
The Doctor is in.
Oh sure, being a cat, a blogger, and author of two books that appear repeatedly on the "New York Times Worst Seller List" has its perks. I have made friends and minions all over the world thingy. I have enough cat toys and treats to last a dozen life times. FaceBook and internet types hang on my every word and follow my every command. I spend my days napping and my nights creating mayhem and chaos with no fear of suffering consequences. I must admit, I have a good life.
This is all well and good, but I find it lacks something..........
Money.
I have no idea what I'd use it for, but I want it.
I have observed that the best way to procure money is to have two leggers give it to you.
While my two leggers were out yesterday, I decided to look through their financial records. While perusing their checkbook, I noticed that they give a lot of money to doctors and vet thingies. It seems that every month they are writing checks to various doctors, hospitals and laboratories. Now, I don't like hospitals, and laboratory has the word "labor" in it, so I have decided to become a doctor.
I spent the rest of the day (between naps) looking at various medical websites, watching "Dr. Oz", and pondering all things medical. I even signed up (using the two legger's credit card) for an online course that promises to teach me Latin in 2,734 easy lessons. I believe I can now hang my shingle and start my new practice.
However, being the conscientious individual that I am, I decided that it would be prudent to try out my newly learned medical skills on my fellow four leggers before revealing my new vocation to the two leggers and demanding their money.
Ivan was my first patient. His examination did not go well. I kept telling him to stick out his tongue and say "Ahhhhhhh". But he was uncooperative and kept saying "Ummmmmmmm". I tried shining a flashlight in his ear, but it only made his eyes twinkle. Finally, I made him lay down and I attempted to listen to his heart. Unfortunately, aside from being big and dumb, Ivan is also acutely ticklish and I couldn't hear his heart over his incessant giggling. Though the exam was difficult, I gleaned enough information to make a diagnosis. Ivan is suffering from Acute Cranial Density. This condition is caused by hardening and thickening of the skull thingy that effectively blocks any intellectual stimuli from entering his noggin while simultaneously preventing what few thoughts he may generate from exiting. Just like his intellect, his prognosis is dim.
I called Tiger Lily in as my next victi......patient. Due to an unfortunate misunderstanding followed by a somewhat sketchy restraining order, I am not allowed within six inches of her, so only a visual examination was performed. Her condition was immediately apparent. Tiger Lily is a victim of a genetic disorder thingy called Irritable Mrowl Syndrome. The primary symptom of IMS is the uncontrollable vocalization of sounds that tend to annoy and anger any semi-intelligent organism within a five-mile range. Unfortunately there is no known cure for IMS, however, it can sometimes be controlled with liberal and aggressive doses of my newly developed drugs Smackitol and Smackitagin.
Jaq proved to be my most difficult patient. She was perfectly willing to be examined, but I quickly realized that some ailments are not necessarily physical. Her ailment seems to be of the mind rather than the body. Her odd behavior, constant giggling, propensity to hiding in boxes and singing show tunes as well as uncontrolled fits of philosophy lead me to the inescapable diagnosis of Panicked Pecan Dementia. In layman's terms......She's freaking nuts.
After several minutes of research, I discovered that there is a simple cure for PPD. However, I have decided not to cure her or even tell her that it is treatable. It is not that the treatment is unorthodox or unethical, I just find her amusing to watch.
Now that I have proven my medical prowess, I will now sit back and wait for the money.
The Doctor is in.
LOL! I have uncontrolled fits of philosophy too. Just what is this cure for PPD Doctor Cujo? How much would it cost me to find out? :D
ReplyDeleteTo obtain the cure you must submit the following forms: #58732, #1.0009, #93258 (in triplicate) and an organ donor registration.
DeleteOMGosh, you had me in stitches of laughter, no wonder your other Vic... ummm patients had fits of giggles. Thank you, that was amazing Doc
ReplyDeleteMy pleasure Sue!
DeleteI think you might want to work on you bedside manner and make sure your malpractice insurance is up to date. Otherwise, I think you have found your profession. Good work Doc.
ReplyDeleteThanks Sharon! My malpractice insurance has lapsed,but I am not worried. Most of my patients expire before they can sue me.
DeleteYour skills as a diagnostician are amazing Cujo! You'll be rolling in the dough in no time.
ReplyDeleteThanks Eileen!
DeleteHi Cujo- rumor has it that its your Blogoversary- Happy Blogoversary!!! You don't need a profession, just keep being you.
ReplyDeleteThank you!!
DeleteHey, you and our Dr. Buddy should get along great. We came by to wish you a Happy Blogoversary! You lead an interesting life. If you interested in an interview for Mousebreath, come by our blog and leave a comment in our contact form.
ReplyDeleteThanks Jan! I will do that ASAP!!
DeleteOh wow we thinks Scylla suffers from IMS!!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteGood luck Dr. Cujo and belated Happy Blogoversary!
Thanks Alasandra!
DeletePanicked Pecan Dementia? That's CRAZY, that is. Crazier than a squirrel making nut pies, for sure. MOUSES!
ReplyDeletePurrs,
Seville
PS. Shining a flashlight in Ivan's ear made his ears twinkle.. PRICELESS! purrs
Thanks Seville!!!
ReplyDelete