I took most of the cats to the vet on Saturday morning, for their annual visit. I am reminded of my mom taking me to the health department for yearly immunizations, and clearly remember that the big, heavy glass door at the entrance of the building opened 'in' so that a small child could not get a running start, give it a good hard push and escape. I would like to think that the Fire Marshall would not let that pass inspection now, and that little people today stand a better chance of avoiding that Trial by Needle than I ever did.
The vet we use sends out friendly little 'reminder' cards like your dentist to notify about scheduling an appointment, so I knew they were due rabies shots and tags last week. As soon as I saw the number of cars in the parking lot, I knew I should not have tried to do it on the weekend: like knowing you will stand in line for two hours if you go to the DMV for license renewal with all the others who waited until Saturday. But I had corralled one of the three, so thought I should go ahead and get the process underway.
Admittedly, I have not, after all these years, figured out a good system for getting them all from point A to point B and back again: it has always required three round trips to get it accomplished. For the first time last year, I had a pet carrier I tried to put them in, but it probably looked like a cartoom if there was anyone observing me attemtping to poke a twenty-legged cat into a small hole in the opening of the carrier: retreat/release was definitely the path I chose when all those claws came out! There must be some sort of 'cat telepathy' involved: when I do get my hands on the first one, the others some how immediately know Bad Things are occuring, and can make themselves so scarce, I think they have evacuated to Talbot County, or making a run towards Alabama - definitely left the premises.
The first one refused to go in the carrier, in spite of the advice of 'grab the scruff of the neck and do it so fast they do not have time to resist", so I just put her in the car, loose. She is the one with the world's dense-est coat: I had to get the vacuum out when I finally got her back home - and used it not only on the car seat and carpet, but myself as well. When I looked down at T-shirt when I got her back to the house, I thought: Alpaca sweater! She also left drifts and drifts of hair while I was petting and holding her in the vet's office - they are likely knitting themselves another cat with all that got left behind.
The second one, historically the most docile of the three, went in the carrier with hardly a peep, but made pitiful little weepy sounds the whole time she was cooped up. Trip number two was mostly uneventful, but I discovered when I was leaving the vets' office is only open until noon on Saturday, so I knew I could not get back with cat 3 before they closed. When I did get home, and released the pitiful little long-suffering #2, naturally number three was sitting there, as if she somehow knew she was safe and would not be going for her annual drive to the doctor.... I told her it was a good thing the vet was closed for the weekend - but honestly, I think she somehow knew... She was the one I had caught first and tried to put in the carrier but turned loose before she shredded me with her claws.
The ornery one, Miss 'Most Likely to Create Puncture Wounds' will have to go on Monday - but I suspect she will become mysteriously very scarce when I go out in the morning: How do they know?
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