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May 26, 2006
Scoresheet
Fred 1Yesterday Fred had his appointment for his shots. It would have been his first trip back to the vet after his traumatic capture and spaying last year. We were pretty worried about our ability to get him in a carrier: he's very affectionate, sweet, and gentle, but he has certain Rules. One of them is Thou Shalt Not Restrain the Fred. When he came to live with us, he brought along some stone tablets of uncertain origin, and that little rule was inscribed #1 on those tablets. Every once in a while, when BP and I start slacking in our obligations, Fred gets those tablets out and takes us through a refresher course in his Rules.
BP & Senioritis 0
Faced with the deliberate violation of Rule #1, we consulted with the vet and mulled it over between us, and on Monday we took out the cat carrier, opened the door, and set it down beside the cat food dish, Fred's fave place in the house. He was fine with that: went in and investigated the carrier as if he'd never seen it before and had no issues with it.
Actually, the cat was hosing us, making us complacent. Piece o' cake, we thought. So when Thursday came, BP started petting Fred, who was up on my desk, while I quietly went and got the carrier. And as I approached with the carrier, BP scooped up the cat, who immediately began struggling, and wrestled him into the carrier.
That's right, we did get Fred into that carrier. Trouble is, we couldn't keep him there. Before we could slam and lock the door, he was outta there. That cat turned into 13 pounds of dynamite and exploded out of there. And then, of course, he wasn't about to be lured back in. Instead, he ran away from us, bushy-tailed and growling like crazy.
So we skulked down to the vet with Luigi alone, to get her checkup for her urinary infection. We had to face the vet and confess our failure.
He says we should try again. Whenever we can get The Fred into the carrier during office hours, he'll work him in and give the lunatic his shots.
Well, I gotta say, we're not going to be trying again in the immediate future. All of us need to come to terms with yesterday's fracas before any renewed efforts.
The good news is that Fred forgave us pretty quickly. He's back to normal, polishing our legs, cuddling us, getting petted, and generally behaving as if nothing happened. And why not? After all, he's the winner.
Posted by senioritis at May 26, 2006 04:14 PM
Comments
ah yes, the joys of feline post-traumatic stress disorder.
Posted by: aerobil at May 26, 2006 07:22 PM
Sounds like Fred deserves more than one point.
Posted by: Derek at May 26, 2006 08:32 PM
Last night we gave Lumper an enema. I have no idea how many points that scores, or for whom.
Posted by: cbd at May 27, 2006 01:06 AM
Dude. You are a god. Or at least a legend.
As for Freddie's points: BP agrees with you, Derek. He says Fred scored at least a safety.
Posted by: senioritis at May 27, 2006 07:46 AM
After my husband, cat and I nearly destroyed the house and each other, we tried a harness/leash instead, and it worked. Thank god. I wonder if dog owners go through anything like this.
Posted by: joanna at May 27, 2006 04:17 PM
tag-teaming has worked okay for me & my orneriest beast in the past. oh, & turning the carrier door-end-up before stuffing the cat in, so he lands on the bottom & needs time to reposition himself before trying to leap free--time you can spend closing the door. one person picks up the cat, holding him under one arm & grabbing both his back feet w/the other hand, so as to keep him from planting those on the outside of the door. the other person holds the door w/one hand, guides the back feet in w/the other, then helps stuff the front feet/head in, then slams the door shut. then you simply right the carrier & trust the cat to follow gravity.
believe it or not, this only gets us a few scratches each time... :)
Posted by: tyra at May 29, 2006 03:55 PM