If it ain't baroque. . .

Grandpa took me to the vet today. He said that I needed to get "fixed." I was glad that they took me, since my tongue had been hurting something aweful for the past several days. I hadn't been eating or cleaning or talking. They gave me some medicine and said that I had an infection. They also said that I would have to wait a week and a half to get fixed. I was thinking that they caught the problem with my tongue, so what else could they be fixing? Had I been a bad kitty? The good part of the day was that I got raw tuna and raw beef and. . . I got to see Dad for a few hours. I thought he was going to take me home, but he said that I had to get fixed first. Why can't I just go home to get better?