55 quid! 55 quid! I could buy around 5 and a half new cats for that! Bloody Sunday opening hours.
Pixie, o dear little kitten of mine, has indeed smashed half her gob out. We've still no idea how, and this mornings unwholesomely early trip to the V-E-T produced no answers and a woppin' bill.
She now has to go in for full dental surgery on Thursday too. Another journey with her whining and mewing all the way. This isn't the end of it. This is gonna rush me at least another £100. This is my holiday spends up the wall. I spend another £50 on a full run of moggie injections at the posh surgery in Duffield only last week.
Then she looks at you with blind adoration that even the good lady wife can't muster, so the only place you can vent your anger is on your blog in front of total strangers...
That animal better either get a job or learn to open beer and fetch slippers, that's all I'm saying.