The vet stuck a needle in her and pronounced her a perfectly healthy fat slob with beautiful eyes. (She weighs 11.3 pounds, which the vet did not consider to be any cause for medical concern, but this did not stop the vet from calling her "chunky" for it and inferring that she must love food. And she has oily fur that always clumps together, no matter how much I wash or brush it, but the vet declared that the oiliness indicates she is failing to fulfill her proper feline self-grooming duties. As for the "beautiful eyes" remark, I think this was standard insincere veterinary chatter, because any fool can see that there is far more beautifulness about Stardust than just her eyes, so it makes no sense to praise only her eyes.)
As soon as we returned home, I gave Stardust canned cat food in an attempt to make up for the trauma she had endured. It does not seem very adequate though, especially since she actually does not particularly love food, and thus she never eats more than a fifth of a tiny, kitten-sized can before she loses interest in it. The only other way I can think of to reward her would be to play with her, and you can't play with a cat who doesn't feel like playing. Stardust has not felt like playing yet.
Oh! I did get to see the cutest puppy I've ever seen in my life, though. In the waiting room. It was about as long from the tip of its nose to the tip of its tail as my forearm (or its owner's forearm) from wrist to elbow. Everyone in the waiting room was instantly transfixed by its cuteness, so someone asked what kind of dog it was. Its owner said it was a pomeranian-poodle mix. I'm not a dog person at all, but this dog - well, not one of the pictures in a Google image search for "pomapoo puppy" shows a dog anywhere near as tiny or adorable as this puppy, so I really can't do justice to it.