It's About Teeth

Went to the dentist for the first time in twenty-eight years as an ancient filling required replacing. Personally I rather suspect that I never needed the filling (or the other two I carry). Was driven to roughly the right location by an astoundingly racist and sexist elderly and nearly toothless taxi-driver who has fallen for a much younger prostitute. Turns out that my decades of not visiting stomatologists for personal studies was justified; they're in perfectly fine condition, although they did require a extremely thorough scrape and clean of accumulated tartar which took the better part of two hours.

The same cannot be said about Mannan Mac Lir, our cat. According to our vet he has a "bilateral enamel defect" which means he's on chicken flavoured toothpaste and dental buscuits for a few weeks at least. Calamity rat was also along for the vist to have his bottom teeth clipped to a normal length; about ten weeks ago he had a stroke and a blood clot has meant that he has only minimal control over his back legs. Every day he is bathed, feed various potages and generally receives good care. Apart from being a cripple, he's in very fine health.