[AnotherJFK]

One hot July day we found an old straggly cat at our door. She was a
sorry sight. Starving, dirty, smelled terrible, skinny and hair all
matted down.

We felt sorry for her and put her in a carrier and took her to the vet.
She had no name so we named her Pussycat. The vet decided to keep her
for a day or so and said he would let us know when we could come and get
her.

My husband, [the complainer] said OK, but don't forget to wash her, she
stinks. And he reminded the vet that it was his wife that wanted the
dirty cat, not him.

My husband and my vet don't see eye to eye. He calls my husband
El-Cheap-O. My husband calls him El-Take 0. They love to hate each
other.

Next day my husband had an appointment with his doctor, which was
located next door to the vet. The doctor's office was full of people
waiting to see the doctor.

A side door opened and in leaned the vet; he had obviously seen my
husband arrive. He looked straight at my husband and in a loud voice
said, "Your wife's pussy is finally clean and shaved. She now smells
like a rose. And by the way, I think she's pregnant. God knows who
the father is!"

And he closed the door.