As I write this, it’s the evening before Thanksgiving Day in the USA, and I am exceedingly thankful. I am thankful the first vet visit for the Dread Kitty Westley and Midnight found nothing serious, and Her Royal Highness Princess Buttercup’s annual checkup went well. I am even more thankful the whole thing is over for a year, because getting two not-entirely-trustful kittens and one older cat who did not like the shenanigans into cat carriers was not something I want to repeat any time soon.
Midnight was the only one with any issues: he had a nasty wax buildup in his ears that bid fair to run the vet out of cotton-tips, and a fungal infection in said ears which probably caused the wax buildup. Rather than inflict the trauma of multiple days of medication on him, he got treatment at the vet that should last 30 days.
So now we have three traumatized cats who may or may not decide to put aside their getting-to-know-you issues over shared trauma, and two traumatized humans who had to try to catch the little sods and get them into the carriers in the first place.
It was not an easy exercise. All plans fall at the first engagement with the enemy, as it were.
First problem: HRH Buttercup decided to follow me upstairs when I went up to find where the boys had hidden themselves – they like to find themselves hidden snuggle-spots and curl up there to sleep – so she saw me snag the Dread Kitty Westley and take him downstairs.
He went into the carrier easily enough, but when we… encouraged Midnight into the smaller carrier, HRH Buttercup was there watching… And figuring that something Bad was being done unto Kittehs. She did Not Approve.
Problem two: Westley and Midnight made a run for freedom when I was transferring Midnight into the carrier with his brother. We’ve only got the two, so we figured the best option was to put the boys in one and HRH in the other. Except Midnight is still pretty skittish and doesn’t like being picked up and held, so we had to use a carrier as a transfer vehicle.
Cue the Keystone Cops routine to get the pair of them trapped and back into the carrier, by which time they were both traumatized.
Problem three: HRH Buttercup Did Not Want. At 17 pounds, getting her to do something she doesn’t want to do is… challenging. Eventually we got her into the carrier by means of cutting off escape routes. She was hiding under the bed, so this involved a broom and creatively-placed body parts to herd her into the carrier.
By contrast, the actual vet visit was rather anticlimactic, although poor Midnight was still so traumatized he got to escape that greatest of kitteh indignities – having his temperature taken. At least at the vet all three wanted to stay in the relative safety of the carriers, so there were no wild bids for freedom.
May they all need no vet attention until this time next year.