Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Want a Treat? Take My Cats to the Vet

It's August, which means it's time for my cats' annual exam. And let me tell you, they enjoy theirs as much as I enjoy mine!

I decide to start by putting the troublemaker, Zoe, in her carrier. Zoe hates being in the carrier so we usually play a rousing game of chase as soon as she gets wind of being transported somewhere. I start to push her in her carrier and she spreads her legs really wide so I can't get her in there. I thought only cartoon cats did that, but apparently Zoe does too. Daphne goes next. Unfortunately, she has realized something is up so I chase her around my apartment for 10 minutes.

Once we're in the car, I listen to a chorus of meows and yowls and 'poor pitiful me' mews for the entire 15-minute trip. I know it was 15 minutes because I looked at the clock but I swear it felt more like an hour.

We're waiting for our turn to go back to the exam room when Daphne changes from a self-nursing sweet potato into some type of demon spawn. I'm surprised her head didn't rotate. She was hissing and growling and carrying on like she was being tortured. I told her I was appalled by her bad behaviors but it didn't quite have the same impact that my friend Shannon has on her daughters. Actually, it had no impact at all.

We go into the exam room and I decide to set the kitties free because they have no love for the carriers. Zoe's happily sniffing around; Daphne is hissing and spitting and growling. Suddenly, she lunges at Zoe and starts swatting. That's all I need - a big old cat fight in the middle of the exam room. I put Zoe back in her crate and try to soothe Daphne. I must not be very soothing because she still completely freaked out. Finally, she hid under a chair and glared at me.

When the vet comes in, Zoe is a complete angel. She gives them no trouble whatsoever. Despite her best brown-nosing effort, I learn that she is fat and has bad teeth (probably from all the food she is scarfing down). OK - it's just a little tartar - but ew. I feel I should rename her Austin Powers.

Daphne is NOT an angel. She is the exact opposite of an angel. Daphne was so obnoxious, the vet didn't even attempt to look in her mouth for fear of being bitten. She growled and hissed and acted like a complete brat. Even with all that drama, she was only a teensy bit overweight and her teeth were gorgeous (the vet got a quick peek during a growling session.) And the vet loved her extra toes.

The drama and yowling and pathetic cat cries continued for the 15-minute ride back home. Luckily, they are (knock on wood) done traveling for the year.

I should try spitting and growling and hissing at my annual exam. Although that's more likely to get me committed than lead to any positive results.


nerdshoveler said...

I once took 3 cats to the Vet at the same time. NEVER AGAIN!! I won't even take 2 at the same time anymore. (we now only have 2) They both feed off the other's anxiety and stress.

This reminds me that I need to schedule their appointments. Thanks.

Eljabo said...

I wish I could do that! If I take them separately, I have cat wars for an entire week. (This basically means Daphne bullies poor Zoe.) It's something about one cat smelling different after getting back from the vet. I figure 30 minutes of pain is better than a week of pain!

Anonymous said...

Nerdshoveler's Wife Says...
Taking 3 cats to the vet results in:
1. angry cats
2. tufts of angry cat hair on every surface and person in a 15 foot radius of the angry cats
3. cat pee in the cat carrier
4. cat pee on the angry cats in the cat carrier
5. the vet approaching the third cat in line for examination with welding gloves
6. the vet looking very relieved when angry cat owners suggest we come back another day
7. the vet offering kitty muscle relaxants for said return trip