Aargh! It’s that time of year again! A time we have come to dread . . . . . . . it’s time to go to the vet, time for the girls’ annual check up.
As is usual with the girls, the first battle of wits begins with the (numerous) attempts to get them in their carriers. This year was no exception. Poppy was taken by surprise by DS and neatly popped into her carrier. Mango proved to be the artful dodger. Having hidden (or so she thought) behind the sofa, Mango believed she had outsmarted us but DS stealthily approached her and DH sneaked into position at the other end of the sofa. Without much fuss, they managed to catch her, but then came the epic battle of getting her into the carrier. She made herself big, stretched her legs out, you name it, she did it! Finally, I managed to get her halfway in but she made sure that I knew of her disapproval by kicking me in the stomach – wow can that cat kick!
The car journey (a traumatic time of 5 minutes) followed the usual performance - within seconds of being placed in the car, the girls start to “sing”. A cacophony of noise in a confined space – lovely.
We arrived at the surgery and strangely the girls became quiet – simply the calm before the storm. At the best of times, the girls are reluctant patients and this year proved to be no exception. Poppy refused to come out of the carrier, no amount of persuasion, cajoling or pushing could get her out. Solution – tip the carrier on it’s end. This method eventually works, as gravity is a major boost. Poppy slid, quite unceremoniously onto the vet’s table. The vet thought Poppy was cute and made all sorts of “endearing noises” to her whilst she was being examined. The injection was done quickly and with no fuss but when it came to the nose drops, Poppy decided that revenge was in order and bit the vet – oh dear! To add insult to injury, the little madam just walked back into her box, full of c-attitude.
A similar performance then ensued with Mango. The anti-gravity cat clung to the sides of the carrier, legs akimbo, which was sorted with a quick, gentle shake of the box. One disgruntled moggy emerged onto the vets table. Now, we had no problem with Mango being examined, injected and the nose drops being given, but the huffy moggy made her feelings quite clear by marching into her carrier, turning around and sighing as though it was all too much.
Another performance completed and a whole year to get over it before we have to do it again!
