The road to the vet is not a quiet one.
Yesterday was Taco vet day. Just a yearly checkup thing. He’s been fairly healthy. Annoying, but that’s not a health issue. Only in regards to my mental state.
Getting Taco to the vet is a two-person job. I knew he wasn’t going to go quietly, so I asked the boyfriend to do the prep work and have him ready to go. However, the little MFer immediately ran under the bed when the carrier came out, at which point it required both of us to tag team the effort. Upon getting him in the carrier, he immediately began thrashing about. Not even out of the house yet. Then the meowing started. Then the meowing didn’t stop.
It’s a 15-minute drive. Of loud.
Of course, I then began embarking on the futile effort of soothing him with calming words. And I continued to despite the fact that it did absolutely nothing. Although I did discover that he answered me in different tones here and there, which amused me. It seemed that saying his name resulted in a slightly lower volume, but only the 1st two meows. The 3rd went back to gutteral. We continued like this all the way into the vet, where he announced himself loudly upon being carried in.
Thus begins part 3 of the vet experience. The shakes. For all of Taco’s bravado, he’s a big freaking baby. He scrunches into one corner of his carrier and shivers. With an occasional loud meow, attracting all onlookers to comment on what an adorable cat he is, which at this point, doesn’t even fill me with mommy pride because now everyone can see what a wussy cat I’ve raised.
Part 4. The exam room.
Still uncooperative. Still meowing. The vet and the vet assistant have trouble holding him. He is really quite a talented squirmer. I will give him credit for not lashing out with claws. Except that would kinda be less wussy. Despite his best efforts (and a loud, random meow on the scale), I learned that he was healthy, that he gained an ounce (this I don’t understand, he eats everything) and that he runs hot at the vet from all the shaking and flustering. Oh, then the vet noticed one pupil was larger than the other and suggested I take him to an animal ophthalmist (however the hell you spell that. I’m not looking it up.). I’m not overly concerned about this. My eyes do that too. My eye doc said it’s unlikely I have a brain tumor because I’d know it by now. But nonetheless, we threw on FeLV and FIV testing into the bloodwork just in case, because he’s only been tested for those once.
Then I paid the bill. Now I’m broke. That’s a whole other story for another post (although I will add that I wasn’t OVERcharged, he’s just expensive). And Taco still hasn’t gotten a job to pay his way. I’m not taking him to a cat eye doc until he earns his damn keep.
That action shot in the car made me laugh so hard. I take two at a time each in their own carrier. It was getting pretty heavy in one. The carrier I have has a tiny flap door that lets me put my hand in for petting, that seems to help. I don’t get it, the whole meowing in the car, must be motion sensitive? Our vet is about 15 minutes away too, it’s torture. I posted their last visit “Talk to the paw” August 21……little goofs, what can you do? Glad to hear Taco had a good checkup. Did I ever tell you our previous black cats name was Paco….apparently means ‘Bro’ in the Dominican? My brother named him.
Hahahaha you do the pet while driving, too? I unzip a corner and drive with one hand. Good thing I don’t drive a stick shift…plus, I don’t know how to. I only have one carrier (which is really irresponsible of me, particularly because we live in hurricane central and spend 6 months out of the year facing possible evacuations (and I’ll be damned if I leave my babies behind) but they’re SO overpriced! Especially the soft side ones, which I like much better. I’m impressed you two a two-cat vet visit. These boys go separately. I couldn’t handle a duet of howl.
I like the name Paco! If only I could adopt another baby…Paco and Taco.
Aww…but, in part one- how does he know that you are taking him to the vet? You could be taking him anywhere…
He HATES fresh air. He knows…