Tag Archives: Humor

6

Inside Mega Medical Insurance

|

If Congress ever stops obsessing about whether Vladimir Putin’s attire (or lack of) is an indicator of Russian foreign policy, maybe they can actually look into the running of the medical insurance companies. In the meantime, maybe this is what’s happening inside the boardroom:

Chairman: Gentlemen, we have invited you here for an explanation of why profit margins have plunged so dramatically.

Board Member A: The investors are very unhappy. Our largest shareholder had to use existing funds to make the payment on his ski lodge. Another had to postpone his trip to Fiji and Micronesia.

Chairman: Let’s start on the pharmaceutical side. What is going on, Mr. Hogg?

Lester Hogg (Pharm Guy): Well, you know that it’s hard to get companies to create new drugs because it’s so hard to get the government to approve anything. It’s all going generic.

Chairman: We’ve heard all that. Are there any new trends?

Hogg: A lot of people seems to be trying herbs and other supplements. We’ve even heard of psychiatrists prescribing them. That pulls people completely out of the pharm system.

Chairman: That makes no sense. Insurance doesn’t cover herbs. It has to be more expensive.

Hogg: Talk to the twits over there (points to the medical insurers). Copays for drugs keep going higher.

Julius Bones (Med Guy): You people can’t keep your costs down. We had to start charging them a percentage of the price instead of a flat fee. You said it was the only way to make a profit. The customers said the premiums were too high.

Hogg: And whose fault is that? You guys are letting patients get CT scans for a sprained ankle.

Chairman: We thought that forcing people into HMOs and such was supposed to keep costs down and profits up.

Bones: Well, it didn’t work out quite the way we expected. We thought that by forcing everyone to go through a primary doctor, a lot of the specialist fees would be eliminated.

Chairman: What happened?

Bones: Them. (Points to a team of attorneys)

Phineas Shark (Legal Guy): We have to make sure the doctors don’t get sued for malpractice.

Chairman: So you decide which tests are needed to protect the doctors?

Shark: In a manner of speaking. We make sure the doctors don’t make promises they can’t keep.

Hogg: So they try herbs instead of drugs.

Shark: There are fewer proven side effects. People don’t want to die from their treatment.

Bones (aside): That completely dries up the flow of money.

Shark: And we make sure enough tests are done to avoid missing a problem.

Chairman: So why aren’t we making money off all these extra tests?

Bones: Well, we made some reforms in the past that are cutting into those profits. We forced the providers to form groups for internal referrals and improved communication. And we made them switch to electronic communication.

Chairman: So??

Bones: So instead of taking the x-ray and sending the patient somewhere else for further diagnosis, the patient is referred internally and the x-ray is available for anyone in the system to see.

Chairman: What idiot thought that would be good for the insurance industry?

Shark: We never thought the medical world was organized enough to actually follow through. Our bad.

Chairman: This is totally unacceptable. It seems that every time we come up with something to protect our interests while still looking like the good guys, they figure out how to actually use it.

(He looks around the table.)

Chairman: I’m giving you insurance executives 90 days to come up with a way to exploit the holistic medicine industry or you’re gone.

 

2

Bedlam in New York – The Conclusion

|

(This is part 3 of a 3-part story investigating Stringham Hospital, a psychiatric facility, and the doctors associated with it. Previously we heard an account from a former patient about his stay there and the story of our undercover work. Patient names have been changed to protect their privacy.)

You may be aware that Stringham Hospital closed at the beginning of this month due to the investigative work done by this paper. Once we had finished putting the pieces together, they painted a very ugly picture of what had been happening.

Patients became aware of the medical offices of Drs. Igor, Boris, and Bela from flyers posted on lampposts and subway walls in middle- and lower-income neighborhoods. They were written to appeal to the employees of the uptown millionaires and disgruntled plant workers:

Tired of the Bosses Getting Better Medical Care?

We can help you get first class service without the first-class price!

Visit Doctors Igor, Boris and Bela today!

No waiting!

Cash and all Insurance Accepted!

Call 212-555-5522 for an immediate appointment!

Callers would be given same-day appointments to meet with one of the doctors. The receptionist would call the insurance company to determine the person’s coverage.

If the person was paying cash, they would be given a “complimentary” bottle of sugar pills and sent on their way. If they had complete coverage under a union policy, the receptionist called Stringham so orderlies could come to office to pick up the patient. If the receptionist couldn’t get the required information or the insurance was less comprehensive, the patient was given a follow-up appointment so Stringham could decide whether adequate payment could be made.

When the patient arrived at Stringham, he was taken directly to the Burmese cat panel and admitted to the hospital. An insurance claim was initiated with the notation that it was an involuntary admittance and there was no projected date of release. The Siamese doctors received payment for each patient admitted.

Once the animals were admitted, they were taken to one of six rooms. On a rotational basis eight animals were taken from each of the rooms for “exercise”. When they arrived at the lab, Michele told them that they would be testing a new anti-psychotic drug.

Michele spoke with each of her subjects to determine which four would be easiest to control. The others were to be given a lethal injection and taken to a disposal site. The drugs being tested had been created by Dr. Stein in hopes of creating a success that would make him a rock star of science.

The only heroes in this story are the cats responsible for the disposal of the unwanted test subjects. Somehow they managed to dilute the lethal dose so that the animal was unconscious but not dead. The cat responsible for disposing of the bodies would take them to a remote part of the city and leave them to wake up. There were six cats involved in this part of the operation.

Aftermath:

The Siamese “doctors” turned out to not have medical licenses. They have been convicted of practicing medicine without a license, insurance fraud and illegally receiving kickbcks. They are currently serving a sentence of six months as “ratters” at the federal penitentiary. They will then be under house arrest for another six months at a public housing project and probation for the rest of their lives. They are required to return all money they received illegally.

Dr. Stein was convicted of malpractice, insurance fraud and unlawful imprisonment. His medical license was revoked. He will spend a year as “class pet” for a first grade class in an undisclosed Staten Island school. He will then spend a year under house arrest and probation for the rest of his life. He is required to return all money he received illegally.

Michele was convicted of attempted murder, assault, and unlawful imprisonment. She will spend the rest of her life as a “bad example” during police presentations to school children. She is living in an undisclosed precinct, ratting for them at night.

The other four Burmese were convicted of unlawful imprisonment and insurance fraud. They have each been sent to a shelter specializing in dog adoptions to act as “ratters” for six months. They will then spend a year under house arrest and probation for the rest of their lives.

Orderlies who had been with the hospital for more than six months were convicted of cruelty to animals and sentenced to a year’s probation. They are prohibited from working at any medical facility for the rest of their lives. Orderlies who had been with the hospital for less than six months were not charged.

The six cats who assisted the patients in escaping have received honors from the city and placement in fast-track positions at Gibbons Medical Research.

The patients are receiving whatever psychological and/or mental health treatment they require and will receive job placement training when they are finished if their prior positions are no longer available.

Ed and Pavlov have formed a private investigation partnership specializing in medical fraud.

 

7

Bedlam in New York – Part 2

|

(This is part 2 of a 3-part story investigating Stringham Hospital, a psychiatric facility, and the doctors associated with it. Previously we heard an account from a former patient about his stay there. Patient names have been changed to protect their privacy.)

As reported by archy and mehitabel

At the end of Ed’s story, we were perplexed. Was there a story there or not? Maybe what Ed needed was a competent doctor. But stories of cats tormenting rodents sounded too close to the bad old days of New York City to ignore. We decided to split up to do some investigating.

From archy:

As a cockroach, it seemed natural that I would go to the offices of Dr. Igor, Dr. Boris, and Dr. Bela. I would be able to hide in a nook and listen. Even if I was discovered, it would just look like an addition to the neighborhood.

The office is in a well-kept part of a working neighborhood. They shared the building with several other medical practices. The sign said “Medical Office” under their names. I thought it was a little strange. Usually doctors specialize: “Small Animal Skin Disorders”, “Rodent Eating Disorders,” or the like.

I went one night and settled in a nice spot in the wall where I could get to any part of the office easily. I spent the first day with Dr. Igor. He only works in the mornings. In four hours, he saw twenty-five patients. Needless to say, he only spent a few minutes with each one. But that wasn’t a red flag. Lots of doctors barely see their patients anymore before diagnosing and writing a prescription.

He had a tablet that gave him the patient’s name, address, occupation, and insurance information. It also had the reason the patient was there. A typical visit went something like this:

Doctor: Hello Jack. Nice to meet you. I see you have a cold.

Jack: Well, I’ve been feeling….

Doctor: No need to get into that, I’ve been seeing a lot of patients like you.

(Looks at the tablet)

Doctor: You can pick up a prescription on your way out. Please come back in a week so I can make sure you’re better.

Dr. Igor’s patients got one of three instructions: I’m sorry I can’t help you, I need to refer you to Dr. F.N. Stein, or come back in a week.

Listening to Dr. Boris and Dr. Bela, I heard similar responses. What triggered which response?

The receptionist was Siamese, like the doctors, and talked a lot. I’m surprised the patients could get a word in. Every call was the same: patient species, patient name, patient address, patient phone, patient federal ID number, type of insurance, insurance numbers, and date of appointment. Interestingly, they did not accept cats as patients.

When she got off the call, she immediately called the insurance company to find out when coverage began, whether medical services were covered, if psychiatric services were covered, how long benefits would continue and whether there was monetary limit to the benefits.

From mehitabel:

I applied for a job at Stringham. At the interview, they said I looked like I would be good at managing patients and hired me as an orderly. Later I discovered that only pure-blood cats would be hired into administrative/executive positions. The rest of us would be orderlies, maintenance or cooks.

We “mutt cats” were treated as if we were invisible. It was degrading, but worked to my advantage. (Ed. Note –The term “mutt cat” was applied by the hospital. This paper does not discriminate based on species or parentage.)

When a patient arrived, the first thing we did was accompany them to their medical assessment. There were five cats (Norwegian Woods) on the panel, with a Dr. Stein as the leader. Everyone who came here was admitted. There was no appeal. If they made too much trouble, an orderly gave them a shot and dragged them to their room.

There were 15-20 animals in each room. We fed them once a day, kitty kibble. Once a week, we put down new litter. The place was beyond disgusting. The patients were mainly small animals with a few dogs thrown in. There were no feline patients.

Every morning, a Burmese named Michele would tell us which animals were to be taken to the lab. She was the head researcher. We took the animals to the lab. She decided which ones she needed that day and told her maintenance staff to get rid of the rest. The maintenance staff was three “mutt cats.” They took the unneeded animals out, and we never saw them again.

We orderlies waited outside until the experiments were over. We took the test subjects back to their room. Usually they were sedated to the point of insensibility.

They fired me after two weeks. They had decided I wasn’t the right “type” for the position.

 

Coming soon: Part 3: Putting the pieces together.

 

6

Bedlam in New York

|

(Bedlam refers to an English hospital for the insane. During much of its 600-year existence it was noted for its screaming, moaning “inmates”, who were often held in chains or locked in rooms. Others were allowed to roam the halls and generally left to their own devices.)

As reported by archy and mehitabel

Based on information from a former patient, we have been looking into conditions at Stringham Hospital. As you may be aware, Stringham specializes in behavioral medicine and psychiatry. We have changed the names of the patients in the interests of privacy. Further, we would like to point out that there are “bad apples” in every species.

Ed’s experience started with a visit to Dr. William Igor. Ed went to see Dr. Igor with what he considered to be a common case of depression. Dr. Igor prescribed a well-known mood stabilizer which had the effect of worsening the depression, as would be expected. At his follow-up visit, Ed reported increased depression to the point of suicidal thoughts.

Dr. Igor thought that was very bad and immediately admitted him to Stringham Hospital. Ed wanted to just quit the medication, so Dr. Igor had him admitted involuntarily as a threat to himself. Being admitted involuntarily meant that Ed could not sign himself out.

At this juncture, we should point out that Ed is a muscular Nonsense rat (ed. Note – it’s a real breed from India) and Dr. Igor is a rather small Siamese cat.

As soon as he reached Stringham, Ed needed to show his insurance cards. He never saw them again. He also had to hand over his watch, wallet, and all other personal items. (As a rat, it was a relatively simple process.)

Next step was to see the doctors. He was accompanied by two large alley cats. There was a panel of 5 Norwegian Forest Cats. They looked at Ed and started talking amongst themselves about lunch. Without asking Ed a question, they told him he was obviously demented. They told the orderlies to “Take him to cell 6, oops, we mean room 6.”

Six turned out to be a rather large room with about 20 animals of various species. There were a couple of large snarling dogs chained to one wall, rabbits scratching at a pen to get out, bats in a mesh cage, and several guinea pigs who looked catatonic. The rest of the animals were running around the room chasing each other.

Ed looked around. There was cat litter in each of the cages and a large litter box in one corner. He almost gagged and said to one of the orderlies, “Do you ever change the litter?” “Of course. It’s done every Wednesday.” Ed turned green (not easy when you’re covered in fur). It was Friday.

The orderlies turned to go. Ed asked, “What do I do now?” The cats smiled evilly and told him, “Just behave and do everything you’re told to do, and nothing will happen to you.” They locked the heavy door behind them.

Ed sat in a corner, dejected. Soon a white rat joined him. “Name’s Pavlov. Who are you?” “Ed. Why are you here?” “Went to the doctor for a sore throat. He said it was a sign of neurosis. Got thrown in here. That was six months ago.”

Ed was appalled, “Why are you still here?” Pavlov looked at him sadly, “Once you’re here you never get out.” “That’s ridiculous. It’s the 21st century. Who’s your doctor?” “Dr. Joseph Boris.” Ed remembered seeing Dr. Boris’ name on the door of Dr. Igor’s office.

“Pavlov, are there any other patients of Dr. Boris or Dr. Igor here?”

“Now that you mention it, most of us were admitted by those doctors. Or Dr. Bela.”

“What happens during the day here?”

“Not much. We’re not allowed to have books or magazines or TV. Sometimes they take some of us out. Those guys usually come back looking like that.” Points to the guinea pigs.

Ed notices that in addition to the drugged animals there are also some in coats tied behind their back. “What’s up with them?”

“Medication doesn’t work. Those coats aren’t very effective though. You can chew through them in a couple of hours.”

“Does everyone come back like that?”

Pavlov looks away. “A lot don’t come back.”

They ate their dinner of dry kibble and went to bed.

In the morning, Ed was among those chosen for an “exercise.” He was strapped to a chair, than felt a poke in his shoulder.

The next thing he remembers is waking up by the river with a note: “Hope you enjoyed your cat nap.”

 

Coming soon: Part 2: Is there a problem or is Ed really mentally ill?

7

May I Introduce to You

|

As promised, we are making some changes to Adventures in Cheeseland.

The 15 or 20 of you who were around during the early days of this blog may remember that the point of the title was that it was going to be about my work in the cheese department of a big block store.

Before too long, I got bored with that idea. It was either because those of us with bipolar minds have a tendency to jump topics or because it was a pretty boring/limited topic to begin with. I imagine it was mainly the second.

Which left me with a rather sizable problem: what to do with a title to the blog that was related in no way to what was written in the blog. I was advised that under no circumstances should I change the name of the blog.

So I’ve been searching for a way to bridge the disconnect. Occasional cheese features? Alternative world where cheese rules?

Hmmmm. Where have I been headed? Eureka!

Welcome to Adventures in Cheeseland: Possibly the Only WordPress Blog Hosted by Mice

We’re adding some new contributors, but will remain basically the same. Without further ado:

Owner and CEO. Editor-in-Chief: Cat (me)

Managing Editors: George and Lenny

Image result for two mice

Staff Writers: Super Snoops, Kommando Kitty, and Horatio Hedgehog

SS and KK               20141214_220841-1

 

City Desk: archy and mehitabel

https://i0.wp.com/static.ddmcdn.com/gif/cockroach-close-up-660.jpg 

African Bureau: “Ace” Sopp

Asian Bureau: Ricky T. Tavi

European Bureau: H. Chris Andersen

Latin America: Still interviewing. The sloths are cute, but won’t commit to deadlines. The snakes scare the rest of the staff.

Oceana: Ahab

All in all, we’ll be the same strange combination of real reality and alternative reality you’ve (hopefully) come to know and love.

7

Somewhere Under the Sea

|

(Imgur)

The Pacific Ocean Survivors’ Society is holding its quarterly meeting. The members have each lost a family member or close friend to human interaction other than subsistence fishing.

Moderator: What are the Society’s rules?

Octopus: No killing.

Shark: No maiming.

Blue Fin Tuna: Only target the guilty.

Sea Turtle: Brains, not brawn.

Group: No acting like humans!!

Moderator: Excellent! At our last meeting, we decided to find creative ways to get back at the humans without resorting to violence. Did you have any luck?

Dolphin: We took your advice and tried to work in groups. Remember how I was telling you about my cousin who was netted by a fishing boat going for “legal” catch? Mr. Sawtooth Shark came up with a plan. It was wicked awesome!

Shark: It really wasn’t a big deal. We found the same boat and waited for them to begin to raise their net. A few friends and I surrounded the net and sawed through it.

Tuna: Not only did they save the dolphins, they saved all the tuna! It was epic!

The dolphin, shark, and tuna stand up and slap fins. The rest of the group applauds.

Shark: The best part for me was that Mr. Dolphin rounded up a bunch of his friends and saved my group from becoming Shark Fin Soup.

Dolphin: It seemed the least we could do. When the fishermen got close to the sharks, we came up out of the water. Humans think we’re cute so we put on a show. By the time the humans got bored, the sharks were miles away.

More applause.

Moderator: That’s outstanding! Anyone else?

Pufferfish: Mr. Electric Eel and some of the jellyfish helped me. There was a boat fishing for some of my friends. Mr. Eel had climbed up one of the ropes and into the leg of the fisherman. He gave him a little shock.

Eel: It was pretty funny. I couldn’t do any damage, but you would have thought I’d cut off his leg. He let go of his part of the winch and the net started to fall into the water. A couple of the humans reached over the side of the boat. They didn’t know the jellyfish were waiting for them. You should have heard them howl and swear. They started the engine and left, net trailing behind.

Jellyfish: We only stung each human one time. No danger. But how could we resist? Humans are so stupid. Eating a fish just to prove it won’t kill you?

Moderator: Outstanding! You have all definitely got the right idea. We have time for one more story. Anyone?

Barracuda: Mr. Octopus and I teamed up against one of those humans in the funny suits who tries to pretend they’re one of us under the water.

Everyone snickers.

Barracuda: One of them got near me with a spear gun. Octopus tapped him on the shoulder. The human totally freaked. Stared looking around. Octopus managed to stay behind him. I tried not to laugh.

Octopus: Finally, I got tired and swam in front of him. He looked terrified. I squirted a little ink on him. When it cleared, he started to come toward me. I stopped. He stopped. Mr. Barracuda tapped him on the shoulder and hid in some grass by the time the human turned.

Barracuda: The human didn’t know whether to watch for Octopus or me.

Octopus: I came up and put a tentacle around his shoulder to explain that we could be friends if he put the gun down. Before I could say a word, he was almost up to the surface.

Cheering and laughing all around.

Moderator: I’m so proud of all of you! This has been a great meeting, and I think we have all learned a lot.

All nod.

Moderator: Before we break for snacks and conversation, I want to remind everyone that our next meeting will be [TOP SECRET]. In the meantime, anyone who can lend a fin, claw, tentacle, whatever at the Great Barrier Reef is encouraged to do so. The corals and their neighbors really need our help. Thank you all for coming.

Everyone moves toward the food, laughing and talking.

8

My Inquiring Mind

|

Questions that have been roaming my brain recently:

Why are we being invaded by June bugs in May?

Why do some people get allergies as kids and outgrow them and some get them as adults? Do the kids just shed them onto some random adult? Can I find some obnoxious child to pass mine to?

Why do those drug ads on TV tell us to talk to our doctors about their products? Do they think the doctors don’t already know about them? Besides, why would I want to talk to my doctor about ED drugs?

How did women survive the heat back when they had to wear full-length dresses and all those other layers? No A/C and most of them couldn’t just lay around and fan themselves all day.

What was the driver thinking when he passed 3 cars on a blind curve? I know what I was thinking coming the other direction. It’s weird how long it seems to take the brain to realize there is a car coming toward you and there’s nowhere to go.

Why is the Store Director yelling (yes, really) at my Team Leader for not having enough people in the deli when she now has to live with the computer telling her who can work which hours?

Why do I open my Xfinity newsfeed to see yet another story on one of the Real Housewives of Wherever and open my MSN newsfeed to see that 1400 Indians have died from the heat? Maybe because I was able to choose mostly foreign news sources on MSN?

Why are they still heating our Receiving area? It’s in the eighties and humid; and all we do back there is unload boxes. Seems they could save some money there.

Speaking of boxes – why do they tape them shut, then label them not to be cut open. Isn’t that what box-cutters are designed to do?

We don’t have A/C. The house stays cool in the summer until the first really humid day. So why did we have to get high humidity before high heat this year? (Of course, it’s supposed to drop 25 degrees in a couple of days.)

Why is the bedroom in the northwest corner of the house 10 degrees colder in the winter and 10 degrees hotter in the summer?

Why did the county put up a sign on a local road saying, “Road construction coming soon”? Like a movie trailer. Of course, one day the road was at a standstill while they paved it because no one knew “soon” had come.

If airbags are for safety, why is the only injury I’ve ever gotten in an accident was when the airbag pushed my teeth through my lip? (Including the times I rolled a car and was broadsided by a tow truck towing a car.)

Why do some cats see shorts as an invitation to get on your lap? (Oooh look – bare skin! It needs fur!)

Totally unrelated observation: There was a man in the store today who looked just like the pictures I’ve seen of Rasputin – right down to the spooky eyes (my guy had less beard).

(BBC Archive)

2

Critter Capers: Horatio Takes on the Internet

|

Hello Humans. Nice to talk with you again. I’ve been watching Mom on her computer and decided that I need to set the record straight on some of what she was looking at on “social media”.  I’m going to start with pictures. I don’t want to get into some of things I’ve seen on Facebook and YouTube. Let’s just say that some people have no common sense filters when it comes to their animals.

Before I start, I must say that I really don’t understand why it is called social media. When hedgehogs are social, there is more than one of us present and we communicate face to face. As far as I can tell, humans are social one at a time and do it over a long period of time. And they don’t actually know who they are talking to.

Anyway, here we go. (Pictures are from Imgur.)

Seriously?! You’re probably looking at this and saying, “awwwww,” aren’t you? Do you know how humiliating it is to be objectified as food?  Ladies, would you want to be called “cupcake”?

Of course, there are worse things that can happen:

Is that not the cheapest suit you have ever seen? What makes humans think they can put their hedgehog in something they would never be caught dead in? (It’s a joke: that hedgehog is supposed to be dressed up like Dracula.)

Remember when you were little and your Mom took pictures of you in the bathtub? Then she threatened to show them to your girlfriends/boyfriends? How would you like this?

Now the entire world knows you still like bubble baths. Totally humiliating. And it perpetuates that fallacy that we all love water. As far as I’m concerned, water is for drinking.

I won’t even discuss this one. The human probably had it in his/her mouth before they took the picture. Ewwwwww.

I thought I’d include one picture I like. This is me with a new favorite food.

Horatio_cookie

Yep. It’s a chocolate cookie. Mom says it’s genetic since everyone else likes chocolate. I just can’t eat too much. I discovered I like peanut butter too. Human food is OK, but it’ll never replace wax worms. You really should try them.

I’m going to try to convince Mom not to spend anymore time looking at embarrassing hedgehog pictures. They even have ones with the private parts all exposed. I might have shown one of those but I was too embarrassed.

I would also like to request that all of you not post pictures of your animal friends that you would not post of yourself.

On second thought, maybe I should just take your cameras away.

One final question:

Why do humans think this picture is funny?

8

Guest Poet

|

My son wrote this poem. He told me that I could send it to one of those blogs that ask their readers for various types of participation. However, this being Mother’s Day, I don’t think he can kill me for putting it out where people are (almost) aware of who he is. He’s 18 and in his first year of college. I like it and hope you do too.

Irony

For meter and rhyme,

I haven’t the time,

and my mind is a stagnant pool.

For this is my curse:

I cannot write verse;

can you think of a fate more cruel?

 

I have not the muse,

my mind does refuse,

to pour forth my soul, though I try.

I’m not a poet.

God knows I know it;

I wish I could break down and cry.

 

But still must I write,

most every night,

In hopes that I might one day make,

a poem or lyric,

perhaps a panegyric

that sounds neither trite, bad, nor fake.

 

8

How Does That Make You Feel?

|

I’ve been hearing an ad on the radio about therapy for cats who don’t get along. They don’t go into a lot of detail, so I’m not really sure what it’s all about. I’ve never been through any type of couple’s counseling, but I have quite a bit of experience with the individual type.

Maybe cat therapy would sound a little like this:

Therapist: So ladies, why don’t you tell me a little about yourselves?

Princess: Well, I was living happily with my humans until one day that (points at Cleo) shows up at the doorstep. She’s all mangy and smelly. She starts crying pathetically. So do the humans close the door to keep out the smell? No. They start feeding her! Next thing I know, she’s got a bed next to mine and I’m supposed to share my toys with her.

Cleo: I lived in a house with a lot of other cats. One day someone came with cages for all of us. I ran away. But it’s really hard living on the street. I kept trying to find a new human. Finally I met my new family. They’re wonderful! They fed me, they took me to the doctor and the groomer, and they let me stay in their house. It would be perfect if it weren’t for Her Highness over there.

(They look at each other and growl.)

Therapist: So what I’m hearing, Princess, is that you were an only cat and now you have a housemate. How does that make you feel?

Princess: What do you think? (Aside to Cleo – How much did Mom pay for this guy?)

Therapist: You don’t sound happy.

Cleo: That’s just how she talks. She always sounds kind of grouchy.

Therapist: What about you, Cleo? Are you afraid of Princess?

Cleo: I’m the one from the streets, remember? Why would I be afraid of her? (To Princess – He really doesn’t know much about cats, does he?)

Therapist: I’m sensing a little hostility from both of you.

Princess: We’re cats. We’re in a strange place. And you smell weird.

Cleo: And you talk weird.

Therapist: We’re here to talk about you, not me. Let’s focus.

Princess: OK, I don’t like having another cat around the house. It’s hard sharing the humans.

Cleo: It’s hard being in a new house.

Therapist: Good! We’re making progress!

(Both cats look at him and hiss.)

Princess (in cat): Why do humans always think they are the center of everything?

Cleo (in cat): I know. Even Mom and Dad do that sometimes.

Therapist: Now ladies, you were just started to explore your relationship and now you’re hissing and crying at each other.

(The cats look at each other helplessly.)

Princess: You don’t smell as weird as you used to. Maybe if I helped you groom, you’d be OK.

Cleo: I’d like that a lot. Sometimes I miss the other cats.

Princess: That way we could sleep together if it gets cold.

(Cleo starts to purr.)

Therapist: You’re making a lot of progress. I think we need to run through some practice scenarios. (Looks down) Oops, guess that will have to wait for the next session. Time’s up.

(Opens the door.)

Therapist: They did very well for a first session. I think in a few months they could be best friends.

(The cats look at each other. They start coughing. After a minute, each hacks a hairball onto the shoe closest to her.)

Therapist: Or maybe we’re done here.