A SORE HEAD

My poor ole head.
I told Mumsy that I had a sore head and she had a look; it's covered in these weird lumps. She asked me loads of questions which I got very confuzled over; I did say I had a sore head.
So with lumps, soreness and confusion, Mumsy called the vet and they yacked for a while; which resulted in me being poked by Mumsy for a while longer.
In the end the neighbour took Mumsy and I at speed to the vet; the vet was very concerned and checked me over. I was screeching over top of their yackety yack; they were doing this time in person. And oh what a racket we were making.
It seemed like I was being pulled about forever. What a horrible way to have your morning when you just want some zzz's. How will I ever catch up on that nap now?

There was a person behind a huge desk (who looked very important) with a big machine that went clickety click when she pressed on each key; she yacked for a while with Mumsy.
When Mumsy got her plastic wand out her purse (which is magic money apparently) the machine behind the desk made even more strange noises; and started spitting out long eaten products.
The neighbour whisked Mumsy and I home in the fast car; yet still much yackety about what the vet had yacked about too.
All in all a tiny bit of yack means I have to have daily treatment to my head, to aid recovery. No pain no gain as they say.
Time for catching up on those zzzs I think.

~Bye