Positive Vetting

I had my annual outing to the Vet's for my vaccinations.  I must say, I quite enjoy it.  There's all those interesting basket cases to investigate: a parrot and a black cat on this occasion, other dogs and a range of rare and exciting smells.  Then there's the Vets themselves, a pleasant young lady this time.  They talk to me very nicely and examine me all over for lumps and bumps which I rather like- any attention is better than no attention.  'Her Indoors' gets a bit tense as my behaviour deteriorates with all that excitement.  She still hasn't forgotten the encounter with the Macaw from the local zoo that time, or the unfortunate incident with the bunny in a box - she lets me chase them in the garden - inconsistent boundaries I call it.  Anyway, I know there's a biscuit coming so I treat everything the Vet proffers as a possible food source: rubber gloves, stethoscope, syringe, you name it.  The only dodgy moment is when I have to go on the scales.  One year I'd overdone it on the treat front and 'Her Indoors' called me 'porky' and put me on a diet.  Dreadful.  Anyway, this year I'd lost weight so the Vet gave me two biscuits as a reward.  I like her style.