Jake, on ottoman, knows how to manage his sisters, Hope and Windy.

Jake is one sneaky furkid.

One evening a few days ago, Jake was immediately to the left of my lap enjoying attention. Windy walks up and swats me on the leg. Jake sees her out of the corner of his eye, rolls over and sits. Windy swats me again.

Windy, and Jake, have me well trained. I reach down to pick her up. Jake looks toward the window and growls. Windy whips around and heads to the window. I could see nothing outside. Jake stops growling and looks up to me with wide eyes. The little stinker faked her out. Windy continued to look out the window, oblivious to Jake’s cunning.

Today Jake goes to the specialty vet to see if he has a torn ligament. He is still limping a bit, but sometimes not. Hope, too, has a chemotherapy appointment because her white count was too low last week for her treatment. Their appointments are back-to-back. Windy will go along for the ride, but I am not getting her a cookie in Starbucks.

My favorite socks to wear to the vet.