|Dogs: "When you've quite finished on those scales....."|
I have a confession to make, another one.
It's further to the earlier post about Health Visitors, a post that seems to have struck a certain chord out there.
The confession is this: The last person to weigh The B was not a Health Visitor.
It wasn't a doctor or even a nurse.
It was a health professional, although not a specialist in the human condition.
You see - and I'll admit that this doesn't make me proud - the last person to measure The B's weight was a vet.
I should, perhaps, explain.
Long before The B and The G came the cats, two of them, a long haired, fluff-shedding, mess-making pair.
Each year, the cats have to visit the vet for an annual check-up and their routine-but-expensive vaccinations.
Last year, I took The B along in the hope there'd be one or two amusing animals to look at in the waiting room.
There weren't, but towards the end of the consultation, he did begin to take an interest in the scales, the big ones that are used for weighing large dogs.
Noticing this, the vet offered to weigh him.
I'm all for improvisation and, you know, it seemed like a good idea at the time.
To mount a defence, albeit a fragile one, it was the vet's idea, not mine.
That said, he did a grand job.
So much so that when I take the cats back to see the vet later this week, I'll be sure to take The B and perhaps The G too in the hope that he might make his kind offer again.