Me in a taxi? My taxi would be in a car driven by Mrs. Human, often accompanied by my sister Nera who is now living her 10th life in the eternal corn chambers hunting mice.. Where were we going? There is only one place that gave us the opportunity to have our own private chauffeur – the vet of course.
We would be packed in our cages and put into the car and off we were. Now and again I could have a look through the window, but nothing special to see and eventually we arrived at the dreaded vet.
As you can see I was not smiling. It was most insulting to be prodded and jabbed and even combed in the search for fleas. I have never had a flea in my coat. Admittedly a snail once made it a home and even a tic, but never a flea.
Afterwards it was back in the taxi and with relief I eventually arrived back to my territory. Felines and taxis do not go together.