An old lady Dorothy takes her parrot to the veterinarian one day.
The vet looks at the stiff and lifeless parrot and says, “I’m really sorry ma’am, but this parrot is not alive.”
Dorothy says, “I’m sure you can’t be certain so quickly. Isn’t there a way to be absolutely certain?”
At this, the vet whistles and an old Labrador walks into the surgery room.
The dog sniffs around the parrot for a few seconds, then looks up at the vet with sad eyes and shakes his head.
Old Dorothy is having none of it. “A dog shakes its head and I’m supposed to believe that?!” she screams.
“I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to do more than that before I’ll believe my parrot is dead.”
So the veterinarian walks out the room and comes back carrying an orange fat cat. He puts the cat on the table next to the parrot.
The cat looks closely at the parrot, walks around it, prods it a bit, then looks at the vet, shakes his head and jumps off the table.
At last, Dorothy seems convinced.
As she is about to walk out of the door, the vet tells her that she owes him 300 bucks.
“300 bucks?!” Dorothy shouts. “How the heck could it be so much just to tell me my parrot is dead?”
The vet says, “Well, it would have been a lot cheaper, but with that lab report and cat scan…”