A trip to the Vet
24 Sep
Frankly, I would rather have a root canal than take my cats to the vet. My cats would rather I have a root canal then go to the vet. They are not like my friend Leah’s dog who acts as if the vet’s office is the best doggy cocktail party he’s ever been to.
Pant pant pant, “Hi! Hi! Hey, what are you here for? Hi! Hi!” Lick, nuzzle, lick, “Oh yeah? Wow, radical cut dude. Were you in the backcountry when you got that injury? Good luck with that. I’m just here for the shots. Nothing epic. Hi! Hi! Slobber. Slobber. Slobber. Woof!”
Whereas, cats really focus their attention on the pain and displeasure. It starts in the car on the trip over.
Most pitiful meow. “Take me back, please? Please? Please?”
Pause for effect.
“You said you loved me this morning. You said I was a good cat. Meow. Then you pushed me into a tiny box and now you’re letting a stranger drag me out to squeeze my bladder. How would you like to have your bladder squeezed? Meow. Maybe I’ll walk on you in the middle of the night while you’re sleeping and put a front paw on your bladder. Then you’ll know how I feel. Meow.”
By the time I arrive at the vet’s office, I usually look like a sweaty hairball who feels almost as tortured as my cat from having to run around the house with a towel, grab a squirming animal, and then stuffing it into a carrier without hurting it.
I don’t think it’s just me, one time I overheard a woman explain,
“I’m sorry I’m late. My husband had to vaccuum underneath the bed to get her out.”
This morning Doug had vet duty, and I was quite relieved. I can weep at the vet’s office at the first sign of a diagnosis.
“It’s herpes?” I sob. “Really? My cats aren’t even sexually active!”
Then I bawl the entire way home. “I’m so sorry you have allergies Cocoa. So sorry!”
Who knows why, but I am always so close to complete emotional breakdown at the veterinary clinic that I now insist that Doug goes with me.
I was nervous when he called with an update this morning.
“How did it go?” I asked.
“She has a urinary tract infection,” he said. “The vet said her bladder was small and she wasn’t constipated. I can’t believe he can tell all that just by feel. I told him I wish I could tell that by feel, and he said that when he first learned how to do it in vet school he thought it was so cool that he’d walk around just feeling cat’s bladders.”
And that made me laugh.
Yes, my dog LOVES the vet. All those interesting smells! Like the smell of scared cats! mmmmmmmm
Best. Story. Ever!
When I used to have two cats, I hated the vet visits for that mornfull (not a word) meow that got louder the longer they were in the carrier.
I know, there is not a worse sound out there than a cat’s pitiful yowl. Janelle
My dogs don’t think the vet is a party waiting to happen. Actually, one of my dogs now refuses to get into the car just because she thinks car = vet. This is unfortunate because when my husband was gone for a week, he asked me to walk the dogs. Being a lazy sort, I just have them get in the car out front and ride with me down the alley to our garage. So only one of our dogs got “walked.”
Hilarious! I love that car riding counts as walking.
Janelle
I have been following your blog and I love your insights.
I have two cats and one I have to work hard at not even thinking “vet” when I need to round her up for a vet visit. I think she would have been a great poker player because she is so adapt at reading “tells”.
Continue with your great work, and I will keep on reading.