2007-02-20 - 2:22 p.m.

You don't expect God to send one of his 'botherers' to hassle you while you are seated in a vet's office, do you?

She came disguised as a deaf old woman with a rabbit who kept leaning forward to ask me about my pet (who wasn't with me, he had been kept in this morning and I was attempting to collect him). I couldn't really understand a word she was saying; she was of the genus 'slightlybattyus Oldwomanus', but I worked out which expression she was expecting from me by almost mirroring the facial gurning she was displaying to me. When she looked rueful I shook my head slowly looking slightly sad. When she became more animated I raised my eyebrows and murmered 'blimey!' to her. To this moment, haven't a clue what we were talking about but by God, in the end I was almost happy to be turned over for 110 quid by the vet, simply to escape her.

Just before my rescue she had leant forward and in a moment of clarity informed me that if I needed support or anywhere to turn there was a fantastic group being held at the Convent. I remember looking slightly confused because the second before this revelation she had been telling me she'd sell her husband's flesh in order to get the funds to fix her rabbit if need be. I must admit I didn't have a facial expression in my repetoir for that kind of statement so I just nodded sagely and looked at the lucky Lapine. I still don't know what the group at the Convent was for and why she thought I'd need to go there for support - I was just sitting waiting for my frickin dog! See, God moves in mysterious ways and sends the most shocking members of his congregation to piss you off in a bizarre attempt at conversion. In fact, you could say that he's actively ruining his own religion by only really having anything to offer to mad elderly people who like singing depressing dirges in draughty churches.

I decided not to mention the paganism thing. I didn't want to encourage more gurning/an apoplectic fit so I just jumped out of my seat and to financial doom with a smile of relief on my face.

The dog - Well, he's got 'dysrhythmia' which is an abnormal heart beat. Fortunately we caught it early and it can be controlled with medication and putting the poor bugger on a very strict diet. He weighs 40.5kg at the moment, which, in real people's weight, means just over 89lb (6.3 stone!). He needs to be no more than 4.7 stone. Oops, fat FAT Batfool!

The mad godbotherer was still in the waiting room when I left which means she'd been sitting there for the best part of an hour that I knew of. No one else seemed to notice or talk to her and the staff had appologised to me twice for my 40 minute wait. Makes me wonder if she was real or if I've gone mad and I'm seeing religious rabbit-bearing old people.....

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