Doctor, Doctor

Well, actually a Nurse Practitioner...

Bobbi dragged me off to the Kwik-E-Clinic at the local drug store, where I got poked and prodded and handed scrips for antibiotics and an inhaler.

I made whining noises about wanting chicken wings and, I guess because I'd been good and hadn't tried to bite the doc or put up a fuss getting into the carrier, Bobbi acquiesced to a lunch stop at Buffalo Wild Wings.

This was a triumph of optimism over experience. My palate is so spoiled by living in foodie paradise that when confronted with Casual American Dining fare, I wind up poking at it and making disappointed whining noises.

We got home and Bobbi made a call to the vet to set up an appointment for Huck. Maybe if he's good, he can go to Buffalo Wild Wings, too.
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