fake bacon and a red mohawk

Pigeon's first birthday was last week, celebrating in style with a sign up in the window, fresh baked brownies for me and her first taste of hummus. I'd given her a bath the day before to effectively clean her birthday suit which she wasn't happy about, but the mealworm treats helped ease the transition. Realizing that she may very well be a third of the way through her life helped push me forward towards finally finding a vet.

I made an appointment and packed her cozy style in a shoe box that had formerly been housing the contents of my old junk drawer. She was understandably crabby as she had gone to bed only a few hours prior and was being rudely jostled into the bright light of the day. We made it there, jar of coffee in one hand, shoe box in the other, and met the very welcoming kind vet. Pigeon apparently doesn't like vets, or this vet, or life in general at 10:00am and made that quite clear. She balled herself up like a champion, shaking and growling and popping with gall. I've never seen her so worked up! The assistant was holding her with these ridiculous leather gloves, the smell of which were probably freaking her out even more, on a metal table under bright lights. In any case, in an effort to help her relax and be more comfortable with the situation, the vet offered her a fake bacon treat. Pigeon, the little fatty, uncurled and munched it right down. She did however pause to anoint herself with it and the resulting red mohawk was all that we have to show for the entire visit..