Wednesday, March 24, 2010

It's payback day, cats!

The poor guys had to get rabies boosters today.  That meant just before 2 o'clock, things needed to be calm around here.  Gracie would be napping upstairs on her favorite guest room bed; Henry would be taking a nap with John.  Unfortunately, Edward showed up early with the huge compressor going in the mobile vet van and both cats' ESP kicked in.  Gracie had disappeared.  Not under beds, sofas, or in closets.  I grabbed Henry and carried him to Edward, who was armed with a large, threatening towel.  Red flags went up and so did a horrible yowl out of Henry, accompanied by some serious  hissing.
Fat chance of getting hold of Gracie now.  While Edward carried my hissing, claw-weilding Henry out to the compressor-pulsing van, I searched.
I finally found her in the guest room, hunkered down in a corner.  She dived (wiggled into) a tiny space under the bedside table, then under the bed and out the door, and down the steps.  Wonderful, agile Edward was waiting with the towel, while surly Henry stalked off to nurse his newly clipped nails and sore rump.
Gracie was trapped.  She did what any intelligent girl would do.  She turned on the helpless, innocent charm she always employs, allowed herself to be carried to the evil van, and took her medicine like a champ.
With any luck, they'll both be too puny to want to sleep on my feet or announce that it's six AM for the next twelve hours.  I've sort of earned that.


  1. Your vet comes to you?! You don't have to wrestle cats into carriers and listen to them yowl for a 5-mile trip to the vet?! Lucky you!

  2. My Gracie nearly had a heart attack the last time I carried her; the new mobile van vet was answered prayer! We're both wimps.


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