Moth's day at the dentist

As many of you know, I've spent an inordinate amount of time over the last decade or so having complicated dental work done.  Today it was Moth's turn to go to a specialty dentist ...

(she had dental resorption, which is basically like a kind of decay from below).

I love my dentists - my main dentist, anyway, and the more sadistic one has done plenty of technically very good work.  But no one has ever written my name both inside and outside the surgery room;

nor prepared a folder for me with my name illuminated (with a drawing of a moth);

nor texted Alice with a picture of my dentistry team, presumably since I don't look quite so cute in the dentist's chair.  (Moth's dentist comes from Manchester, quite bizarrely.  Or not bizarrely - a quick bit of googling tells me he used to be married to Sophie Ward - actor, writer, Simon Ward's daughter - before she got involved with the playwright Rena Brannan.  That's somehow a very LA story, and I don't know whether Moth was aware of all of it).

Our dear cat seems to have made it through ok - she's home, more than a little wobbly, but ravenously hungry.