DH and I took Oscar to the vet for her annual checkup last Friday.

I was home most of last week with the worst cold I've ever had (plus
fever and chills ... hrm, maybe it was the flu ... and an ear infection
that just won't go away), so I actually suggested that DH take Oscar to
the vet.  The idea was that I could avoid missing even more work.  But I
was home again, feeling miserable, Friday.  My company has a great sick
leave policy, as they don't want us getting everyone else sick.  DH had
never taken Oscar to the vet himself, and was a little bit nervous.  I
decided to tag along, but let DH do the driving and the lifting.

First, the good news.  Oscar is in great shape and at an ideal weight;
neither too fat nor too thin.  Juuuust right.  Also, she has continued
to be just slightly bolder than she was last year.  She actually ate
the treats I put in her carrier (she's always been too nervous to
touch them, before), and at the vet's, while clearly unhappy to be
there, she wasn't quite as rag-doll as she usually is.  You could tell
she has bones.

Now, the bad news.  I'm glad I was there.  I asked the dr. to shave
Oscar's pantaloons; she tends to get litter stuck on the super-long
fur on her legs.  But she'd never had them shaved before.  I held
Oscar gently but firmly as the vet carefully used the clippers on
Oscar ...

And Oscar bit down on my arm.  Hard.

We tried this several times before the vet switched to scissors.  I
guess the noise of the clippers so close to her body freaked her out.
I'm just glad I had two layers of clothing covering my arm.  I have
three separate sets of bite marks on it.  Each broke the first layer of
skin, but didn't draw blood (although they eventually scabbed).

Ah well.  Oscar's healthy; that's what's important, right?

Happy holidays to all.