(This was posted Dec 2, 2017)
Taking the cat to the vet shouldn’t be a contact sport. We came home from work a little early and my husband got the carrier out. We had about 45 minutes before the exam, when it was 30 minutes until the appointment, we went to get her loaded and to the vets. He grabbed her and that’s when the fight broke out...
Putting her through the carrier door didn’t work because she’s too fat. So, I took the top off and he attempted to put her in. Who knew a 15-pound cat could sound like it was dying AND get away from a grown human.
Then she literally disappeared. We spent the next 15 minutes eliminating each room. Finally, we found her under the stairs in the basement. Another round of “hell no, I will not go” ensued.
He was holding her and attempted to put her in a cardboard box. She jumped out, twice. I got the carrier ready while he held her. She peed on him. Yeah, go ahead and laugh, it is funny.
In the carrier she went, very unceremoniously at that. Grab our stuff and out the door. By the way, we had called the vet to tell them she pulled a Houdini and vanished. After she was in the carrier we called back to say, “found her and on our way”.
Into the car we went. Traveling down the road. Holy shit what is that smell? Oh, nothing much. She just took a dump. And she’s yowling the entire way. Finally, we made it to the vet’s office.
Now the carrier is her special friend. Do NOT take me out. You don’t see me. Don’t touch me. Don’t even look at me.
While paying I asked, "When do we have to do this again?" The receptionist tried not to laugh.
$55 later with poop and a wet husband we headed home. So, she could poop and pee in the carrier- again.
At some point I started laughing. My husband’s reply? “who knew taking the cat to the vet required whiskey?” That’s internally and for the claw marks.
Husband home, cat uncrated (is that a word?) and back in the basement. He headed for the shower. It was four hours before she would let us come anywhere near her. In fact, I was actually petting her and he came in. The closer he got, the closer to the doggy door she inched. He gave her Kitty Crack (little treats) and she took them from his hand. I'm fairly sure if she had a middle finger she'd be flipping us off.
Luckily, we don’t have to do this again with her until May of 2019. Small favor from the Gods.