Those of you who have met "The Moo" know she's a bit of a spaz. She's small, fast and wirey- and enochlophobic... a bad combo. So all appointments at the vet are made with a sense of foreboding. (I'm realizing that I never blogged about Moo's adventure getting her anal glands expressed. I was gigantic pregnant at the time and it was not fun for either of us.)
Thursday's appointment was for two- Hobbs needed her senior check up (my baby is a senior!) I managed to get them into their crates fairly easily. Hobbs growled the whole time but Moo was surprisingly calm. Her nose turned bright pink (Moo's fear meter, white being very happy) and she meowed occassionally but otherwise she just chilled.
The vet decided to give Moo her exam first. Quick weigh, exam, all is well- time to go back into ther crate. But Moo had other ideas. She jumped down and hid under some chairs (that were bolted to the wall of course).
Fast forward to after Hobbs' exam. Moo is now cornered and angry. The next five minutes went like this:
*Me: Moo, please come out honey.
Moo: MROW! (swipeswipeswipe) Hiss!
Me: (Laughing) Moo, seriously, you're embarrassing yourself.
Moo: hiss(swipeswipeswipe)hiss
Me: (putting treats down to lure her out)
Moo: crunchcrunchcrunch. (realizes what I'm up to, runs back to corner)
[Repeat from * 48 more times.]
Then the vet tech comes in with "the gloves". When I worked at the shelter these are the gloves they used for ferals. This is not good.
Me: Moo, look what you made them do now...
Moo: MROWMROWhisshiss(swipeswipehissswipe)(strugglestrugglestruggle)hiss
Door closes on crate.
This is what I get for trying to squeeze her into that Karate outfit on Halloween...
You crack me up with your funny stories.
ReplyDeleteYup. That's about right. It's what I miss most about my cats (over the course of time - they didn't all get done in at once, a la Titanic.)
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