Miracle on Broadway

The title makes it sound so much more poetic than it is.

Last week, I had to take Daisy (a.k.a., The Sweetest Cat in the World) to the vet for something I'll politely describe as a butt problem.

The visit was horrible. While one person held her down and the vet did unspeakable things, she stared at me with baleful eyes. The message was clear: That new couch you love so much? I'm shredding that fucker when we get home.

The vet fixed the problem, gave me three medications (that I'm still dutifully applying/cramming down her throat each day), charged me $200, and sent me on my way.

Yesterday, while "treating the affected area," something didn't look right.

Sigh.

Back into the cat carrier and back down Broadway to the vet.

Sigh.

Only this was the most awesome trip EVER.

Nothing was wrong with her.

AND...

... are you ready?

THE VET DIDN'T CHARGE ME FOR BRINGING HER IN!

It's a miracle, I tell you. A ding-dang-ol' miracle!!