When you are out in the middle of the country you are lucky to get so much as a doctor to make a house-call, let alone a vet, that is why they had to send for the village doctor. Mrs. Slocomb was very angered by this.
"Don't they have any doctors that specialize in pussy's?"
Ms. Brahms didn't dare say what she was thinking, that of course there were doctors for them, they just wouldn't be of any help in a situation like this. She let it pass because Mrs. Slocomb was a good friend who was in emotional turmoil. She sat there with Mrs. Slocomb on the bedside and waited for the doctor to arrive. Mrs. Slocomb held Tiddles in her arms.
"How 'bout we talk for a bit to keep your mind off it?" offered Ms. Brahms.
"Oh thank you Ms. Brahms. You are a dear friend."
They tried talking about other things, but both kept straying back to the situation at hand.
"Tiddles is getting up there in years, but I never imagined she'd go so soon."
"Oh Mrs. Slocomb, you musn't talk like that. She mighn't be all that bad. Lets just wait til the doctor gets here."
"You know," began Mrs. Slocomb, "having a pet is like having a child. I've always wanted a child, but Mr. Slocomb didn't agree, then he left. Toddles and I have become so close; she's more than just a cat!"
"How old is she?"
"Eight."
They both thought about it, eight years was a long time for a cat to live.
"I'd always hoped to go before my poor pussy."
Mr. Moulterd was passing by the room and heard the voice of Mrs. Slocomb from inside. Being the nosy country man that he was, he listened at the doorway.
Mrs. Slocomb's voice became more peevish, "I think it's all these changes that are affecting my pussy, its just not 'ust to the strains of county living yet." She sounded more optimistic as she went on. "I et that's what the problem is. This doctors probably going to tell me that I shouldn't expect as much as I do or be so rough with my pussy."
Mr. Moulterd had heard Mrs. Slocomb refer to her cat as her pussy, but he secretly lusted after Mrs. Slocomb and could not keep his mind out of the gutter. He let a wide grin play across his face as he pressed his ear closer to the door.
Mrs. Slocomb continued on, "and I don't like the idea of a strange man handling my pussy, even if he is a doctor and I am unanimous in that."
Mr. Moulterd quietly agreed.
"Mind you, it's not easy to find a doctor with all the right experience to handle your pussy." Said Ms. Brahms, "He should wear gloves in case the hair gets in the way."
Mr. Moulterd became more and more excited as the conversation went on. His mouth was now hanging open.
"Oh I don't imagine the hair will be a big deal," Mrs. Slocomb said pompously, "I keep it well groomed. Many a man has told me that the hair on my pussy looks ten times better than my own."
Mr. Moulterd could no longer restrain himself. He flung open the door and entered with the world's widest grin on his face. "I can attest 'ta that. You always got my crank trunin'!"
"Mr. Moulterd!" Mrs. Slocomb was outraged. "Ms. Brahms and I are having a private conversation about my pussy."
It was at this point that Mr. Moulterd looked down at her lap and saw the cat. All the happiness seeped out of his face. "Oh…" he said in a defeated voice. "Got the wrong end of the stick, I did!"
Both women glared at him.
