Thursday, April 05, 2012

Taking the cats to the vet to be tutored


Today was our annual trip to the vet. A fun time for all.

I got the carrier out of the basement and set it on the kitchen table. Neither cat seemed too concerned, which makes me wonder if they're as smart as I think they are. Well, Laverne, anyhow. Shirley is very pretty.

While Laverne wasn't paying attention, I picked up her up and nonchalantly stuffed her in the carrier. She caught on at the last second and did that thing where she splays out her legs and holds them stiffly so she won't fit through the door, but I was faster than she was, for a change, and still got her in.

Shirley was sunning herself in the kitchen window. SH got her down by bribing her with a treat, a treat that she heard rattling in the jar and saw in his hands but wouldn't believe it was for real - we almost never feed them outside of meals - until he dropped it into her dish.

Laverne heard the rattling and then heard something drop in the dish - she knows that sound quite well - and began whining even louder because where was her treat?

SH gave her some treats, too, which she tried to eat while she was crying, which is impossible, so she alternated between eating and crying in despair over her recent incarceration.

She cried all the way to the vet's. Shirley said nothing. That's usually how it works: Laverne does the talking for the both of them.

At the vet, Laverne, crying, walked right out of the carrier because even though she was distraught and upset, she still wanted to see what was going on. He weighed her and took her pulse and her temperature and looked in her ears and at her teeth. She cried the entire time. Then he put her on the floor, where she wandered the perimeter, crying. She found the door and tried to open it. No luck. Too heavy and latched.

Shirley had no interest in coming out of the carrier. The vet reached in to pull her out and she hissed at him. She hissed again as he pulled her out but what was she going to do? She weighs six and a half pounds and he weighs 170. There is no contest.

Still, just to make it look good, she hissed at him again. That would show him.

Yet her claws remained sheathed and she didn't try to bite him. All bark and no bite, that Shirley.

When he told her she was so cute, she hissed at him again. It was a hiss laden with meaning. It was a hiss that said, "I am more than just a pretty face. I am so tired of the condescension of humans who think that just because I am beautiful, I am not intelligent. Those qualities are not mutually exclusive, you know. I want to be loved for my mind. And just so you know, I can open a door by myself. I do know how to do it. It's just easier to let humans do it for me. You think you're so smart, but who's cleaning up after whom here?"

The vet laughed because he loves animals.

Then he gave her the shots and she hissed again. That was a, "Don't mess with me, Big Boy," hiss, but the vet, he was immune. He sees her type all the time.

Laverne cried the entire time. Shirley hissed occasionally.

Laverne wanted to get out of there so bad that she crawled back into the carrier. Shirley had to be convinced. She doesn't like to be trapped, although she always finds small places to nest at home. Maybe it's a control thing.

Laverne cried the entire way home.

Fortunately, neither of them blamed me for taking them there. They just hate him, not me.

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