Friday, July 25, 2008
How Not to Get a Cat in a Box.
It was that time of year when the cats were due to visit the vet. Spooky is the easy one; just open the carrier and in she walks. Patty on the other hand is not so cooperative.
The plan was to call them both down for lunch, and while Pat was eating, snap the lease onto the collar. (That went well) Meanwhile, my son was to get the carrier into position. (O.K. so far so good) Then guide/shove the fat pat in before she knew what was going on. (This is where it went very wrong)
Pat yelled and clawed. Spooky screamed and attacked the boy, Pat and myself. (At one point, she even attacked the towel. I don't know what that was about.) Spooky made sounds like a child howling in pain. It was a cross between a wolverine and a badger. My son says it was a ghostly cat wail of anger. This continued for half an hour.
My husband came home to: My son upstairs assembling another carrier. My daughter sitting on her bed with a look of horror. Spooky taking turns biting and scratching my arm, leg, Pat, and the towel. Pat in a defensive posture panting. And me? I was bleeding, sweating, and sitting in a pool of cat urine. (The cat was still not in the box)
With the second larger carrier in place and my husband playing zone defense with Spooky; I finally managed to pen Pat. I had just enough time to take an unexpected shower before the appointment.
We all forgave each other by dinnertime.