I am sitting in the waiting room at the vet, a women holding a tiny dog with a Flock Of Seagulls hairdo looks at me and says…
Women: How old is your cat?
Me: 87
Women: In cat years?
Me: No.
Women: They don’t live that long.
Me: She can hear you.
Woman: The cat?
Me: Yep.
Woman: Oh, (whisper)is she dying?
Me: We’re all dying.
Women: Oh.
Me: (feeling remorse) Sorry. (pause)The cat has behavior problems.
Woman: Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Doesn’t it.