I took the starving and very pissed off Amazy to the vet this morning to get her bad tooth yanked, and am now awaiting the call to collect her.
When I got back, R Next Door was still in the park, and started in about how I should have let her recover for at least a year after the iodine treatment, if I insisted on being foolish enough to have the dental work done. ('Decay does not spread from tooth to tooth.It could vait. Now she vill probably die...' (the sick elderly lurcher Milo, and her sick, elderly rabbit both passed shortly after having dental surgery, from entirely unrelated ailments.)
A bit later, she began heartily laughing at how absurd I look when exercising. I am certainly painfully aware of this fact, without her reminding me every few days. I thought I was immune to this stuff, but every once in a while, if I'm feeling a bit wibbly anyway, (and wondering if the cat could actually croak, and it would be All My Fault), I can feel slightly grizzly.*Snivel*
4PM... Amazy is awake and chowing down. I have to ring back at 5:00 then, hopefully, collect her.