"He Like You"
Just before our European Christmas vacation I took 2 of the kids to the vet for some routine maintenance. Penny needed immunizations, and Trouble, my very troublesome cat, needed his asthma medication.
I have been to Dr. Park's office so many times for such needs and I always dread the wait. The office is small, old and smells of some form of alcohol used to disguise the number of animals that urinate on the floor somewhere.
It might sound like Hell to you, but despite it not being the most attractive place, it is affordable and my animals ALWAYS leave in better condition than in which they came.
I've said it before and I'll say it again that Dr. P. doesn't say too much. His broken Korean-English always leaves me trying to figure out what he said, but his kind eyes tell me that he really cares about my kids.
But Dr. P said something the other day that was completely dishonest.
He said "what a beautiful cat".
He was speaking about my boy Trouble- the uncutest of all my kids with his gaunt Siamese-cat face, huge alien-eyes and tiny pursed mouth. His coat is a boring shade of white contrasted by black with aging silver flecks in it.
Dr. Park was lying to me.
I looked at him, half-shocked, almost expecting him to say in his broken Korenglish "Jusssss Keeding!" But he didn't say that. It was a lie he had probably told others a thousand times over- so many times, in fact, that he had lost track and suddenly started saying it as a mere formality.
But I had caught onto his ways shortly before this big fat lie.
As I sat in the waiting room that day, I heard through the paper-thin walls him tell another person "He like you".
Where had I heard that before?
Oh yes, twice before.
The first time I brought in Trouble shortly after he found his way into our home (and onto our bed) without us realizing he had decided we would be his new parents. I took said Troublesome bug-eyed cat to the vet for immunizations and a neuter so that I could adopt him out to a good home. But Dr. Park seemed saddened that I was considering giving him away. He said (forgive my accent) "Awwrrr, That too bad- he like you".
And so I looked at the mangy, skinny cat that stares so deeply into your eyes you are sure he is putting a hex on you- and I decided to keep him because, according to Dr. Park "He like me".
Flash forward to a year or two later when I found the half-dead Penny on the roadway. After her stint in what I call the doggie ICU, I took her in for immunizations and a spay and once again confessed I was looking for a good home for the dog.
"Awwwwrrrrr. Rearwy? That too bad- she like you."
I didn't realize it after this second time that he was lying. I thought maybe he was like the animal whisperer and he must just know when animals were meant to be with a certain owner and that if I relinquished this animal unto another human, I would be defying the animal Gods and something awful would happen.
I stared into Penny's sad eyes, huffed a little, and decided to keep her. Because if a professional veterinarian could recognize that we were meant to be together, who was I to defy that?
But when I heard him tell another patron "He like you", I realized I had been deceived... but I chuckled nonetheless.
While I felt slightly betrayed after hearing him tell another woman what I thought were words whispered sweetly unto me- and me alone- I decided to let his lustful Korenglish words carry on. (Really, I thought we had something special).
What I realized then was that Dr. Park loves animals so much, he wants nothing more than to see them stay in good homes. Perhaps he saw my ugly cat, the one that needs the most medical attention, and wondered if someday I would tire of bringing him in to the offices that smell of alcohol-covered urine. Maybe this is why he felt the need to tell me my cat was "beautiful" as though I might somehow manage to love that little bugger more than I already do.
Now I sound like a bad mom because I think all moms are supposed to think their kids are cute and wonderful. But really, aside from being an occasional pain in the ass my cat is really just average. (The cute one is Littlefoot, but don't tell Bobby because he thinks it's him).
Nonetheless, I love that ugly cat- and not just because he like me.
I have been to Dr. Park's office so many times for such needs and I always dread the wait. The office is small, old and smells of some form of alcohol used to disguise the number of animals that urinate on the floor somewhere.
It might sound like Hell to you, but despite it not being the most attractive place, it is affordable and my animals ALWAYS leave in better condition than in which they came.
I've said it before and I'll say it again that Dr. P. doesn't say too much. His broken Korean-English always leaves me trying to figure out what he said, but his kind eyes tell me that he really cares about my kids.
But Dr. P said something the other day that was completely dishonest.
He said "what a beautiful cat".
He was speaking about my boy Trouble- the uncutest of all my kids with his gaunt Siamese-cat face, huge alien-eyes and tiny pursed mouth. His coat is a boring shade of white contrasted by black with aging silver flecks in it.
Dr. Park was lying to me.
I looked at him, half-shocked, almost expecting him to say in his broken Korenglish "Jusssss Keeding!" But he didn't say that. It was a lie he had probably told others a thousand times over- so many times, in fact, that he had lost track and suddenly started saying it as a mere formality.
But I had caught onto his ways shortly before this big fat lie.
As I sat in the waiting room that day, I heard through the paper-thin walls him tell another person "He like you".
Where had I heard that before?
Oh yes, twice before.
The first time I brought in Trouble shortly after he found his way into our home (and onto our bed) without us realizing he had decided we would be his new parents. I took said Troublesome bug-eyed cat to the vet for immunizations and a neuter so that I could adopt him out to a good home. But Dr. Park seemed saddened that I was considering giving him away. He said (forgive my accent) "Awwrrr, That too bad- he like you".
And so I looked at the mangy, skinny cat that stares so deeply into your eyes you are sure he is putting a hex on you- and I decided to keep him because, according to Dr. Park "He like me".
Flash forward to a year or two later when I found the half-dead Penny on the roadway. After her stint in what I call the doggie ICU, I took her in for immunizations and a spay and once again confessed I was looking for a good home for the dog.
"Awwwwrrrrr. Rearwy? That too bad- she like you."
I didn't realize it after this second time that he was lying. I thought maybe he was like the animal whisperer and he must just know when animals were meant to be with a certain owner and that if I relinquished this animal unto another human, I would be defying the animal Gods and something awful would happen.
I stared into Penny's sad eyes, huffed a little, and decided to keep her. Because if a professional veterinarian could recognize that we were meant to be together, who was I to defy that?
But when I heard him tell another patron "He like you", I realized I had been deceived... but I chuckled nonetheless.
While I felt slightly betrayed after hearing him tell another woman what I thought were words whispered sweetly unto me- and me alone- I decided to let his lustful Korenglish words carry on. (Really, I thought we had something special).
What I realized then was that Dr. Park loves animals so much, he wants nothing more than to see them stay in good homes. Perhaps he saw my ugly cat, the one that needs the most medical attention, and wondered if someday I would tire of bringing him in to the offices that smell of alcohol-covered urine. Maybe this is why he felt the need to tell me my cat was "beautiful" as though I might somehow manage to love that little bugger more than I already do.
Now I sound like a bad mom because I think all moms are supposed to think their kids are cute and wonderful. But really, aside from being an occasional pain in the ass my cat is really just average. (The cute one is Littlefoot, but don't tell Bobby because he thinks it's him).
Nonetheless, I love that ugly cat- and not just because he like me.
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